The Unusual Guardian
by MusicalWriter1709
Summary: When a gypsy with a sadistic side discovers Crystal's secret, she gives Crystal the mission of her life. Through time travel, Crystal meets the one who her soul craves, but how can she help her heart's desire when she has claws, a tail and whiskers, and can only say the word, "Meow"? Read and join the journey of Crystal and her friends! Original Characters by Leroux and Kay.
1. Prologue: Show Time

_People were right...freaky._ I stare at the red and white striped tent tentatively, feeling the urge to take a slight step back. I resist the temptation. _I don't know what the appeal is,_ I wonder to myself. _Why did we-?_

"Why did we come here again?" I voice aloud.

"Because it's the hottest thing in town and we were bored, remember?" Tiffany drags a brush through her black and purple striped hair, giving it two long, smooth strokes before returning the brush back into her purse. If it could be called a purse. "Backpack" would be more fitting as it is home to all sorts of "Tiffany necessities", but she would find the term vulgar.

"Yeah," chimes Sam, "and what else is there for four sexy females to do…but go see the circus...on a Friday night." The cheesy smile slowly forms into a scowl. Her blonde spiky hair, long fingernails, and penciled eyebrows make her appear to be all points and no curves. Just like her personality. "Why couldn't we have just gone to a club?"

"Like we do almost every Friday night? We needed a change-up!" Lee smiles brightly, her teeth twinkling from the bright lights. She seems to be the only one who is truly excited about tonight's events.

"But why a circus? And a circus that exhibits freaks, at that!" Sam purses her lips.

Tonight's change of plans have definitely been hardest for her. She lives at the club. She loves the provocative dancing and the liquor, but mostly, she's in it for the game. She has a perverse obsession of degrading men. She reels them into her clutches, pets them, coos at them, soothes their egos, then rips them to shreds once they're completely vulnerable to her.

The rest of us find it unhealthy, but what can we do? Talking to her about it just causes her to turn her claws on us. Each of us has been scratched once by her, none of us wish to feel that again.

Albeit, don't we all have our own odd obsessions, healthy or not? We all know Sam's obsession. The others...

Tiffany adores hair. It's her life. And anyone who doesn't know her would only have to give her one fleeting glance to understand what she's all about: hair. Whether it's hers or not. She's given professional advice to us all, which is why our hair couldn't have been better, yet the master conquers us all. She has, without a doubt, the healthiest, sleekest, shiniest hair amongst us. Black is her natural color, the purple that's added in are all hair clips, cleverly hidden so no one discovers the clip. Tiffany avoids dye likes it's the plague.

Lee is a possible earth-born homo sapien who greatly resembles Luna Lovegood from the _Harry Potter_ series. She's just as weird and dreamy. Lee's attracted to anything "unique" and it's attracted to her, thankfully-and I believe all of us are unanimous when I say-no psychopaths have crossed her path just yet. She finds narcissists, psychopaths, and serial killers fascinating. She researches them and reads their crimes at night like they're delicious, childhood bedtime stories. Once she even tried to sneak into an institution for the mentally insane. She got caught within the hour, but spoke to some very incredible individuals according to her. So a freak circus show is right up her alley.

And my obsession?

A horn honks to my left. I jump, hair on end. The clown who I suspect made the horrid sound waddles around us. His obscenely, red smile feels more fake than anything else around the vicinity, as if to say, "It only looks like I'm smiling, in reality, I'm frowning." Illusions can trick the minds of those who only wish for a different, maybe even better, reality.

"Oh, what a happy clown," claps Lee, smiling gleefully. The clown honks his horn again. Tiffany and Sam relish their disgust.

I stay neutral as I turn to stare at the huge tent. Inside are people screaming and cheering delightfully, yet piercingly. I hear sparkles, swooshes, boings, booms, and pings. I hear the circus. And inside are people who are demonstrating their oddities.

 _Is this what_ he _experienced…?_

My heart races.

Lee giggles, jumping up and down like a rabbit. "Let's go in! Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

Sam groans. "Alright. Fine." She stomps ahead of us, flipping over the tent flap. "Come on! I want to be done with this as soon as possible."

Lee runs inside, giddy as a school-girl facing her high school crush. Tiffany flips her hair and walks in with her nose pointed up in the air. It's not meant to appear snobbish, she just walks with pride. I hesitate before taking two petite steps. I peek through the tent door. It's just as hectic as any other cir-

Something furry and itchy gets thrown in my face.

A nasally, "Here you go," resounds from my right. I ignore the voice. In my hand is a monkey playing the tambourines. My heart stills.

And my obsession?

My obsession relates to books, movies, languages, music, masquerades, and masks. It involves opera, and a man named Erik, who used to peruse the cellars underneath the Palais Garnier in Paris, France. He was a musician, architect, inventor, assassin, and many more. He had many names, but perhaps the most well known name was, and still is, _The Phantom of the Opera._ And _he_ , is _my_ obsession.

I clutch the monkey in my fists and follow my friends into the belly of the very hungry and very angry circus.


	2. Chapter 1: Unexpected

"What's that?"

I glance down, following Tiffany's stare. "Oh, this? I don't know. A clown-or whoever-threw it at me."

She grasps the monkey in her hands, staring at it with a puzzled face. "It's creepy."

"Eh…"

She tosses it back. "Bury it. Burn it. Get rid of it."

I clutch it to my side. I don't know what I plan on doing with this thing.

 _Just keep it._

I sigh. I probably will. It looks maniacal with its obtuse eyes, yellow vest, and puffy red pants. I take its arms and slap the tambourines together, a delicate clink is released.

"Hey!" Lee cries out. "Let's buy tickets so we can go on some rides." She skips ahead before any of us could protest. A stream of curses run fluently from Sam's mouth. She's not trying to be discreet about her displeasure either, considering I can hear her above the noise. Impressive.

We follow Lee to the booth, who has already paid her bid and is holding her tickets. "What should we ride first?"

We all keep mellow at first, looking around for a ride that may interest us all. Except me. I can't handle rides. Heights make my knees turn to jelly and alarm my sweat glands into overdrive. I rub a hand against my pant leg.

"Ooh," gasps Tiffany. She smacks Sam's arm and points.

Sam tsks. "Wha-oh! Yeah! Now there's something I can get drunk on! What do you think, Lee? Crystal?"

Lee found it spectacular. Me? I found it to be less than invigorating.

"Hmm. You guys can go...I'll stay here. On the ground. Where the sane people are."

"Where the boring people are," bites back Sam. "Let's go and leave Crystal to her monkey."

Lee giggles without a second thought and dashes to the ride, standing in line behind a big bear of a man. Sam sashays behind her. Tiffany lingers for a moment.

"You sure?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'll be fine."

"Okay...and may I just apologize ahead of time…" she sprints off.

 _Apologize for what?_ I shrug it off, thinking nothing of it. I hold the monkey to my chest, and, serendipitously, the song "Masquerade" from _The Phantom of the Opera_ pops into my head. I hum it while I wait. Thankfully the line was short and the three characters were on the ride in less than two minutes.

"Cotton candy! Come grab your cotton candy here!"

That grabs me from my stupor. I turn toward the loud voice. Spotting a man on stilts waving around colorful bags of cotton candy, I smile and rush towards him.

Sweets are a weakness of mine.

"Cotton candy! Co-Well hello there, young lady," he grins big and wide. "See anything that tickles your fancy? Tell me what will be your pleasure tonight?" He opens up his long, red coat, spreading it wide like the wings of a proud bat. "Luscious lollipops? Bubbly-licious gum? Sour, sour gumballs? Twizzlers galore? Or…?"

"...cotton candy?" I gently intervene.

His face lights up. "Ah! The little redhead speaks."

I smile, blushing. "May I have-?"

"Wait!" He holds up a hand. "Let me guess your color. I'm good at guessing…it's a specialty of mine." He waves his hands majestically, swirling his fingers around over and over until they look blurred together. His eyes close.

I'm mildly amused...I'm also mildly weirded out.

All at once his body jolts, eyes snapping open. He pulls out a pink cotton candy from behind his back. He presents it to me, "Ta-da."

I smile, grasping the stick of the cotton candy.

"Well?" drawls the man.

I hold it up to salute him. "You guessed correctly. How?"

"Your personality. It's as shy and sweet as a pink rose; pure as a diamond."

I blush.

"Have a good rest of your night." He cackles crazily before walking in the opposite direction. "Cotton candy! Come and get your cotton candy!"

Goosebumps rise. Stunned, I turn around and bite off a chunk of cotton candy. I return to my original post. The girls stumble to me, laughing. Their hair all mussed, except Sam's thanks to some hardcore gel.

"That. Was. Insane!" Tiffany grabs her brush and swipes it through her hair.

"Right? Bile rose in my throat at least three time!"

Sam shrugs. "Eh. It was mundane at best. What'cha got there?"

I swallow a mouthful of fluff. "Cotton candy."

Sam lets out a puff of air. "We could've been having Margaritas or Bloody Marys or even the classic Sex on the Beach about now."

"Oh, shut up about that." Tiffany throws her brush into her bag. "While this is not what we were expecting to do tonight, I think we've all been having a fun time so far. Including you, admit it, Sam."

Sam rolls her eyes. "Fine. Fine! It made me scream, which is something no other man has been able to achieve so far."

"Gross," I mutter.

Lee, oblivious to our conversation, drags our attention back to her. "Guys, let's go ride some more!" She grabs my hand, tugging me to her.

We peruse the circus. Lights flash in our eyes, horns and diabolical giggles cram our ears; there is not a moment of silence; there is no sense of peace anywhere in sight.

The girls went on a few more rollercoasters, two that went upside down, three that just spun them around. They got on one that lifted them high up into the air, stopped, then dropped straight down. My stomach lurched when I saw that. I didn't join them on any of those rides. I would've preferred to wander the tents, which beheld precious jewels and magic tricks. I remained as content as I could with my stuffed monkey and my cotton candy...but now...

"Can we wander the tents now? At least for a little while?"

Tiffany smirks. "Okay, but I need some food first. Anyone else?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Oh, food!"

I wasn't so hungry anymore, but since they are, what choice do I have?

We hunted for an appealing food vendor when I snuck up next to Tiffany while Sam and Lee bantered with each other. In passing, it looked like Sam was ready to pummel Lee.

"Hey, Tif?"

"Mm?"

"What were you apologizing for earlier?"

"What?"

My face deadpans. I don't want to play this game. "You know…"

"Oh!" Lee gasps dramatically. "Oh, look! It's Rick!"

 _What?_ I frantically search the premises. My heart stops in my chest when I spot his chestnut hair. _So it is._

"Let's go say 'hi'," Lee continues, running towards him. "Hi, Rick!"

Rick looks up, spots her and smiles. She hugs him tight, which he returns wholeheartedly. Then he spots the rest of us. His eyes, though, rest on mine.

 _How is this even possible?!_ My eyes narrow. _Tiffany!_ _That's what she wanted to apologize for! She freaking set this up._

"Yo, Rick!" Sam waves.

"We should greet him," Tiffany butts in.

And, against my better judgement, I follow them like a sheep following its shepherd. After finishing his hug with Sam, he hugs Tiffany.

"Hey, Tif," he mumbles in his smooth baritone.

He glances up at me, straightening. "Hi, Crystal."

Oh, that tone is so heartbreaking. "Hi, Rick." I clear my throat. "How are you?"  
The only reason why I'm tolerating conversing with him right now is because it's what my friends would expect me to do.

He runs a hand through his hair. A sign I know only too well that represents his distress. "Fine. Could be better. You?"

"Could be better." _Darn straight._

Lee interlocks her arm around his. "Well, I'm starved. Do you want a hamburger?" She tugs him away from us.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I hiss out, my teeth clenched so tight it hurt my jaw.

"I'm sorry! I'm really sorry!"

"Lighten up, Crystal." Sam examines her nails. "You can clearly see the boy is still heartbroken over your break-up." She scoffs and walks off.

"She's right. And you two were so cute together," says Tiffany.

"I broke up with him for a reason," I snarl.

"A crummy reason."

"Breaking up with someone because you're no longer in love with them is crummy?"

Tiffany sighs. "We believe that your obsession with _The Phantom of the Opera_ might have...influenced your break-up."

"What?!"

"You're practically in love with that character...what's his name?"

"Erik?"

"Yes! We know that you and Rick were very much in love once upon a time, which is why we're bringing him back into your life, so, you know, you two can get acquainted again."

"You mean _fall in love_ again. My God, Tif," I run a hand over my face. "Did you tell him your logic over our breakup?"

She blanches, and I fear I already know the answer. "Just-just half of it."

I'm dumbstruck. _Oh, what he must think of me._ "You had no right to do this. Any of this!"

Tif panics. "You've been so sad, so depressed lately, we had to do something! Look, being in love with someone that doesn't exist is unhealthy, but-"

"I am _not_ in love with Eri- _the Phantom!_ " My face flames. "I just love the story. Ugh! I can't believe you did this."

"Rick is a good guy, better than the majority. We all think so. We were so confused when you broke up with him!" She sighs. "He's handle all of this much better than we thought he would, but that's because he still loves and respects you."

Tiffany grabs hold of my elbow when I show sign of walking away. "Just give it a try. For all our sakes. If you don't, you may come to regret it." A moment of silence passes before she walks ahead of me, meeting up with the rest of the group and Rick, who are waiting in line for food.

 _Oh my God!_ I'm mortified. Not only what she said was true, but she had just opened my eyes to the fact. Sorrow punches my heart. I _am_ in love with Erik, and thanks to him, I'm no longer in love with what's real.

 _Rick…_


	3. Chapter 2: Mysteries and Shadows

_Am I to give this a second chance? Or would that be wrong considering I'm no longer in love with...?_ Standing in line with my friends-having finally found the courage to join them after my little "eureka!" moment with Tif-I debate silently in my head over the situation. Of course I'll never admit to them the accuracy over their revelation.

I am in love with a fictitious character, which caused me to breakup with my boyfriend. Rick seemed to pale in comparison to Erik. For some reason it no longer felt right, and I fell out of love with him. I felt-feel-a stronger pull towards fiction than reality. I'm stuck in some awful loop between two worlds-one real, the other, not.

"So," Rick begins, "have you had fun?"

I grimace. My friends strategically planted themselves in line so that I was next to Rick while they formed a tripod of their own.

"Yeah."

"Been on any of the rides?"

 _You know that answer._ "No. They have, though. Many of them." I sigh. "Rick, what are-"

"What's that?"

Irritation pricks my heart at his interruption. A talent of Rick's was to avoid any hurtful questions or conversation. He clairvoyantly predicted what I was going to ask: about our relationship, what he's going to do about it, and what makes him think his presence here is going to change that.

It was going to be a loaded question.

"Someone threw it to me when we entered the circus." I hand him the monkey. "It's creepy, but cute."

"There's nothing cute about it." He hands it back.

I guess I'm the only one who finds it's mix of cute and creepy charming. We order some food. Three hot dogs, one hamburger, and one frozen lemonade (That was mine. I wasn't really hungry).

"What should we do?" voices Lee.

"Walk," I suggest. "Let's walk and explore some exhibits."

They begrudgingly follow, but don't utter a word. We visit a few magic trick tents, an antique tent, even a Victorian Era and Goth Punk tent, all the while dodging little kids while on our journey.

"Let's go on some more rides!"

I finish the last of my lemonade as they declare that. "You guys can. You know where I'll be."

"Oh come on, Crystal!" Tiffany gives an annoyed expression.

"No! I'll be fine."

"It's okay.. I'll stay with her." Rick reassures.

 _What? No!_

"Rick, if you want to go on some rides, you can. I'll just-I'll just be in...in there!" I point at the first tent I see.

 _Circus Freaks_ is what's written on the tent's side in ghoulish lettering.

"Really, Crystal?" barks Sam.

"Really. Now go have fun."

As they walk in agitation towards their newly-found ride, I turn around and cringe. I wasn't really paying attention to what I was pointing to; I just wanted to avoid one-on-one time with Rick.

I hesitate. _It's where I told them I'd be...so…_

No pride in my step, I traipse over to the condemned tent. I freeze at the entrance when a scream breaks loose from inside.

 _This is what Erik had to endure every day for two to three years._ For him I brave up and part the flap of the tent.

Hay, swirled mud, and dirt are spread all over the place. A putrid smell of musk assaults my nose. I raise a limp hand to cover my nostrils, hoping to dim the stench.

A family of three-a willowy teenage girl and two middle-age parents-pass me. Their caramel skin looked pasty, and the girl appeared to be on the verge of tears. "Don't go in!" she hisses to me.

I gulp painfully. _What if I can't take what I see? What if I fail Erik in the worst way possible?_

I shake my head. _Get a grip, you ninny! Erik isn't real!_

 _But this person you're about to see is._

I turn the corner, where a man appears abruptly in front of my face. I jump back.

"Welcome!" he booms (no megaphone required for this fellow). "Do you dare enter a tent full of outcasts? Into our nest of freaks?"

 _Even today people are still cruel to those who are different._ "...Yes?"

My hesitancy doesn't phase him. "Then, come on in, Miss. Feast your eyes on all things horrible. Disgusting! Stare at the bare monsters in front of you with their ravaged features! Queasy beings beware, for the sights that are milliseconds away from being displayed are not meant for dainty souls."

I follow him. The only one I find disgusting so far is the "normal" person in front of me. A movement to my left-miniscule, but there all the same-has me stop and stare. It's a woman. An old, old woman. She's gazing at me with an unreadable expression. I can't see much of her visage; details are useless when one hides in the shadows. She retreats even further back. I break any thought of her, and she becomes only a mere mist in my memory.

"Behold," the rambunctious man bellows, "'The rebirth'."

I purse my lips in order to make sure they're sealed. I'm glad I took that precaution because I nearly gasped at the sight. I was determined to avoid any stereotype sounds people make when facing someone who is different.

The…"being" in that derelict cage (what a filthy cage it was, completely unsanitary) was as abnormal as they could get. In my opinion, at least. The bars were rusty and hay was strewn all over the bottom of the cage, some sopping wet, others crackling dry. The "being" was small, almost as big as a toddler, but able to walk like an twenty-year-old adult. It's skin was wrinkled and purple and slick, like it came out of its mother's womb only ten minutes ago.

The "being" ignored me for about a minute before it gave me a hint of attention by a slight lift of his eyes. It is a "he", there is no doubt about that: there is nothing below his waist to conceal himself.

"What do you think?" asks the man, glaring at me greedily.

 _What am I supposed to think?_ I want to ask. Instead, I say, "Can I touch him?"

Maybe it was compassion that allowed the brazen words to escape my mouth. The thought of Erik living like this at one point in his life-devastating!

The boisterous man is stunned into silence. He suddenly looks quite stricken. "Uh…sure." Then he smiles a frightening, gleaming smile. "If you aren't disgusted...if you so dare...then be my guest." He jingles a ring full of keys in my face, gliding them to the lock on the cage.

I step toward the now open cage. The creature dashes to the corner, quivering, staring at me with wide, nervous eyes.

"Hi," I coo. "I won't hurt you." _I'm sure many have told him that before..._

I crawl to the him, being sure to take extra care to my steps; they're teeny and gentle. I throw away any hostility.

He whimpers, so I pause. "I know others have hurt you, lied to you. I won't be one of them." I grunt, as I manoeuvre to sit down. My butt squishes against the sopping hay, and I try not to cringe or heave as I feel the wetness spread across the back of my jeans. I know where that musky scent originated from now.

I spread my legs out, my eyes wandering the edges of the bars of the cage. I ignore the ignoramus behind me, who cannot seem to develop the muscle to wipe that preposterous grin off his chubby face.

I test my patience. Honestly, I don't care whether this "being" ever learns to trust me, as long as I've done my best I'll be happy. I begin to hum, softly, just a whisper of air. I hum louder when I see the creature in the corner cease to tremble. He cocks his head like a confused puppy.

"I'm humming."

He shys away.

I hum another short tune. "Everyone can do it. Just place your lips together and activate your vocal cords: speak without using your tongue or opening your mouth." I hum again as an example.

It was so silent I strained to hear it, but the briefest sound emanated from his throat.

"There you go."

He hums again, a small smile kissing his lips.

The smile on the man's face wavers.

I pitter forward, testing the waters. The "being" doesn't flinch. I hum and he returns the tune, we filter it back and forth. Soon enough I'm only a step away from him. I open my arms, inviting, and he snuggles in like a cat, head rubbing against my chest. A pur releases from his chest.

The smile on that ridiculous man has disappeared-there's no trace of it left.

 _In your effing face!_

I can't help but beam at the face below me. While his visage is shocking, I don't find it worth fainting over.

"What's your name?"

The "being" gazes at me quizzically.

"Crystal?"

All of us-man, woman, and child alike-jump.

"Oh, hey," I sigh. "How was the ride?"

Tiffany's eyes widen, followed by Rick and Sam. "What is that?" She points at the "being". Lee seeks out their stare, she cocks her head in wonderment.

"The rebirth!" jumps in the man. They all startle at his attack.

I roll my eyes. _There he goes again._

"Uh, yeah," Sam replies snarkily, obviously not amused. "Get out of that cage, Crystal. We know you enjoy freaky things, but…"

I try not to cringe. _It's not like they don't have feelings._

"Fine." I gently release the poor guy. "Good luck," I whisper. I take the stuffed monkey in my hands and pass it over to him.

He stares up at me with what appears to be adoration. The brim of my eyes fill with salty tears. I don't think he's ever received a gift before. I exit the cage, trying not to snivel.

The boisterous man notices. "Don't be scared."

I furrow my gaze at him. "I'm not. Just do _him_ a favor and clean his…cage."

The man is stumped by my attitude. My friends beckon me over, and I follow regretfully.

Only when we stumble out of the stuffy tent do I realize how sweaty I am. My forehead is slick and my back is pouring.

I breathe in the fresh molecules of oxygen, as fresh as it comes when you're surrounded by stacks of hay. I can almost feel the dust tickle the rim of my nose. A crisp breeze messes my hair.

Rick grabs my elbow before I can fix the damage the wind caused. "What the hell were you thinking? Getting into that cage with that thing?"

"Being considerate," I reply wryly.

"But it could of have some sort of...oh, I don't know! Some sort of disease!" Tiff babbles out, clearly frustrated. The wind overturns her hair and she once again digs for her buried brush.

"It was like an alien baby," Lee muses.

"And what made your butt so wet?"

"Oh hush!" I snap. "It came out of a human womb just like the rest of us! Yet it's different so we abandon it, segregate it. It's sickening!" Stomping ahead of them, and slightly hazy from my spiked anger, I nearly run into someone who was standing in front of me. A woman. She's petite, but round and hunched. She is also hidden in black clothing.

I come to a halt. "Oh!"

I instantly recognize her. She is the same woman I saw inside the _Circus_ _Freaks_ tent. She has to be.

I look into her eyes. She has heterochromia. One eye is an ice cold blue, almost as chilly as the ice in the Arctic, the other is as warm as caramel. Yet I don't see cruelty or warmth in her gaze, only mischief.


	4. Chapter 3: Zelda's Game

I stare at her and she stares at me. I can hear my friends shuffle nervously behind me.

"H-hey," shouts Sam, doing her best to regain her bravado. "Grandma, what do you want?"

She remains silent, and that quiets us all, even the din that surrounds us is muted. Her mismatched eyes continue to stare at me playfully. A dull ringing begins to echo in my ears.

Someone nudges me from behind, urging me to say something, or maybe they were trying to pull me away from her. I can't say which. "Umm, can I help you?

Slowly her mouth opens. Bits of dried drool stick to the outer edge of her lips. "I saw you," she rasps. Her voice is like gravel.

"Sorry?"

"I saw you...with that thing. 'The rebirth.' I saw how you reacted." She licks her lips; the dried bits of drool roll up into small balls. "You reacted with compassion." She vehemently shakes her head. Something jingles, and for the first time since I've seen her, I notice what she's wearing. There are beads on the upper layer of her shirt. What she's wearing reminds me of what gypsies used to wear. "People don't act with compassion these days. They're _selfish_ ," she spits. Her blue eye gleams icily.

Internally I agree, but I don't wish my friends to know that. I look back and nearly cringe. Tiffany is brushing her hair, Sam is examining her nails, Rick is looking into a mirror he found and patting his hair, and Lee...well, she is just being Lee.

The lady wags a finger at me, it's not criticising, just analytical. "But you...you're different."

I blush. Ever since I was a girl I remember feeling out of place, like I was a little old for this world. Sometimes I feel like I belong in the time where cars were carriages and books and theatre were your television.

"I guess," I reply.

"Don't be modest, Crystal," hisses she. Her eyes narrow as they ping-pong between me and my friends. "Come. Come! All of you follow me." The lady turns swiftly around, waddling away in the direction we were heading.

"Crystal." Tiffany creeps behind me. I hear teeth chewing on what sounds like plastic. I don't need to look to know that she is biting her nails. A nervous habit. "H-how did she know your name?"

I shrug. "I-I don't know. I don't think I said anything."

"Well? What should we do?"

"What do you mean 'what should we do'?" scoffs Sam, her voice agitated. "Go running for security, that's what!"

Lee's voice is the only one who sounds serene. "I think we should follow her."

Sam hiccoughs, her voice venomous. "Oh, you hippie, you! You are insane!"

"I don't know. I kind of agree with Lee," Rick announces, staring at the old lady's retreating form which is creeping farther and farther into the darkness.

 _She isn't waiting for us. She hasn't even checked to see if we are following her. She expects us to follow her_ , I realize.

Sam and Tiffany are dumbstruck. "What?"

He shrugs. "I think it'll be interesting. Besides," he smirks, "you guys have me to protect you."

It take everything I have to not roll my eyes.

Rick's feet crunch the hay beneath him as he walk past us. He pauses. "Come on, you guys. Let's go." Lee skips behind him, humming gleefully.

Sam groans, but follows. "This is something stupid teenagers do when they are drunk or sexing it up in horror films!"

Tiffany glances towards me. "What do you think?"

 _I think something bad is going…_ "L-let's go." We walk ahead without another word, jogging lightly in order to catch up to the old lady with emotive eyes.

We walk for ten minutes before reaching the lady's tent. She is the first the enter. I am the kabose; the end. Before entering the tent, I quickly glance at the sign above the flap: Zelda: The Oracle.

At least I know her name now.

"You four, sit!" commands the woman sharply.

The others sit instantly without question.

 _What obedient puppies they are!_ I remark sarcastically. I almost laugh. I bend to sit down myself when I notice there are only four chairs, not five. Why do I feel like this was planned…?

"You," she points at me. "Come with me." She disappears behind a red curtain.

"Um, Crystal…"

I turn to look at Tiffany.

"Be careful."

I nod before disappearing behind the curtain myself. The side that my friends are sitting in is simple: a persian rug, four red chairs with gold trim, a desk covered with pamphlets, and red draping that surrounds the inside of the tent.

This side, however, is like traveling to another dimension. In the center of the room lies a round table covered in a navy blue cloth, which is covered with glow-in-the-dark moons and stars and constellations. I think I recognize the curves of The Big Dipper on it. There is a glass ball on top of the table. It's being held by the sharp talons of a gothic, metal dragon with gleaming red eyes. The ball itself is illuminating, nearly bouncing, colors off the drapes. There's a mix of neon pink, neon green, and dark purple. Above the table is a mini chandelier, the jewels gently dangling and curving around the lightbulb which is buried deep within the treasure of its jewels.

"Please sit," she softly commands. Her voice is still gravely, but there was a gentle tone when she addressed me.

I do. This chair is rimmed in gold all over, yet the cushions are navy blue; the color of midnight. She continues to rummage about the room. She toddles over to her rectangle desk. She opens and closes the drawers, searching for something. She mumbles to herself while she searches. I take this moment to observe her, now that the moment of shock has left. She has gray hair which is as crazy as Albert Einstein's. It looks untamable. Her eyebrows are drawn in with a dark brown pencil. Her cheeks are shallow, yet her body is plump and curvaceous. What really brings out her name, I think, is her hooked nose and the gray, thick whiskers on her chin. She is definitely a Zelda.

"Where is that damned thing…" she mutters.

My heart thumps heavily in my chest, but I'm not as nervous as I was. She probably just wants to read my palm or tell me my future. Still...

"Ah!" In her hand she's holding what appears to be a bedazzled collar. In the center of the collar's straps is a jewelled upside down triangle. It shimmers in the light.

 _This is something Cleopatra would wear!_ Except it is much too small for Cleopatra's neck, not even a toddler would be able to wear it without choking. _What is that for then?_

Zelda groans as she plops down into her chair. "Here we go, my dear." After she tangles the collar around her fist, she holds out her free hand, gazing at me intently. I hesitate before grabbing her hand. It's cold and clammy. She hisses in a deep breath, sucking it in through her nose. Her eyes close, and I feel like my blood has been sucked out of my body.

I almost choke on my spit.

"Ah, Crystal," she breathes in deeply like a predator trailing after the scent of its prey. "You are special indeed. Kind and compassionate. Smart and sarcastic. Lovable and in love…" he brown eye peeks open. "But the one you are in love with is not apart of this world, or any other world, is he?"

My mouth drops open. "Uh…"

Both eyes peer at me coyly. "He is not even real. Who is he? This fictional character you love so much?"

"How did you-"

"Nevermind that. It's my job after all. Now tell me."

 _Then shouldn't you know already?_ I taunt.

I clear my throat. "His name is Erik. He is the main character from _The Phantom of the Opera._ "

"Correct me if I am wrong. This Erik is disfigured, yes?"

"Correct."

Her eyes close again. Moaning, she rolls her head. "You are empathetic towards those that are different. Those that are invisible towards beings who aren't."

I gulp, my butt wiggling into the cushions of the chair. "Yes."

"And now you are caught in this awful loop. You are in love with a fictional character and your friends want you to get back together with him-that boy from the other room."

"Yes."

"Mm." Her visage is unreadable. I can't tell if she approves or not. "You are tired of this world. You are ready for adventure and romance!"

"Yes," my voice is weak, timid.

"You wish to be with the one you love, to help him change, correct?"

"Of course" It's a whisper now.

Zelda's eyes gleam and she smiles, bringing gooseflesh to my skin. For once, both eyes show excitement; they're sparkling! "I think you will be a fun one. I'm ready to play this game. Are you? Do you accept this challenge?" Before I can make a sound of protest she leans over and licks the palm of my hand. "Oh, yes. You are ready."

My vision gets hazy like I'm hypnotized. I feel dazed, drunk even. I can't answer her.

Zelda tightly grasps my other wrist, so she is holding onto both of them. Any tighter and she'll cut off my circulation.

I squint through my blurred vision, trying to clear it. I hear her chanting nonsensical words. It sounds like it's another language, but one that is ancient and unheard of. A colossal wave of dizziness drowns my senses. I gasp and shiver. I feel cold, like I've been trapped in an ice berg for months. Then my blood begins to burn, searing my tendons and boiling my brain. Tears run down my cheeks. My body convulses. I want to scream, but muffled gasps and moans are the only sounds allowed to escape. Zelda doesn't quit her chanting, instead her words grows louder. It seems like she is screaming inside my ear with a megaphone. My bones crunch, and a yelp bursts through my lips.

"Crystal? Crystal!"

Who is that? Hands grab my sweating, heaving, burning body. Someone tugs at my arms. A kaleidoscope of pinks, greens, and purples swirl before my eyes. My bones crunch, condense. I groan at the pain. Sweat trickles down my temples. I think I'm shrinking!

Zelda's chants become nearly incoherent with their speed and volume.

"Crystal! Crystal! Crystal!" The voices are weaker, then I hear loud thumps.

My vision turns black and the room grows deadly silent; only my heavy breathing is heard. Then a flare of flashing white blinds me, and there is no more.


	5. Chapter 4: Meow!

There are numerous things I am currently thinking about-am confused about-but there is one thing I'm sure of: it is hot! I mean boiling, steaming! Granted, there is a gentle breeze which is barely caressing my body, but even then it's still painfully humid.

My eyelids quiver as I try to open them. I soon give up. I couldn't even manage to split them open a centimeter. I take a deep breath, hoping for it to possibly soothe this migraine that is hammering my head. I can't move, my body refuses to move, except for my ears, which are flickering at every possible sound. And my nose is twitching at every stench…

 _What?_ _I'm not making sense._

 _What the hell happened?_

My memory is fogged. I'm only getting cinematic glimpses of the night before. I remember entering the circus with my friends and someone tossing a stuffed monkey at me...

That's all.

 _Did we decide to ditch the place and go drinking instead? Did I get drugged?_ _Maybe that's why I don't remember. If that's the case then, where am I? I hope I'm home. Please oh please oh please._ I again, in vain, try to open my eyes. One twitches open for a moment before engulfing me in black once more.

Jaw clenched, I release the tension, bones cracking as I open my mouth wide. I drag my tongue across my lower lips. I desire water.

A strong breeze smacks my face, and something grainy wafts up my nose, making me sneeze. The force of the sneeze makes my eyes water, finally granting me the ability to open them. There is bright light and blurry archaic colors, then after some rapid blinking, things become lucid.

" _I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore…"_

I blink a few more times. The scenery doesn't change. _Oh, I'm dreaming. That's the only sensical explanation!_ The first thing that can be observed is the dirt. There is plenty of dirt. And sand. The second thing that comes to focus are the people in colorful and unusual clothing. The men were wearing nude or mud colored pants and shirts. Their turbans were of a different color, but dulled as if they've been worn by the sun for ages. The women wore long jewelled robes.

A huge, inhuman, wheezy shrill makes me jump. A donkey? We have those, just not in the city. But here are four passing right before my eyes, all pulling rundown wooden carts.

 _What!?_

The buildings are stocky and poorly built; some aren't even standing straight. There are a few, however, that seem to be of quality and color.

There are thin children running around, others are crying and holding out their hands as if begging for something. I see some women doing the same thing. There is plenty of the chatter; the streets are not bare.

I think I'm going to have to pinch myself. I lift my paw to do just that.

 _Paw!?_

 _PAW!?_

Sobering up, I shake my head. _Holy shit!_ _That's not a hand-that's...that's a freaking paw!_ I can only stare, disbelief clouding any judgment my brain might have had. The very thing that shouldn't be connected to my body is there. Grey at the base, it shifts into white at the ankles. Pinks pads and sharp, gleaming claws are included in this nightmare.

 _Oh!_ All of them! My arms and legs have turned into paws! And...oh...my...God! Is that a fricking tail!? My _tail_ wiggles in tune with my jumbled emotions.

Was I slipped absynthe when… Damn! I wish I can remember what happened. Ugh! I have too many questions, and I don't even know where to begin.

I grapple to turn around and lift myself up. When I cease my wobbling, I slowly stumble towards a smashed mirror on the side of the alley I was tucked away in. No one can see me thanks to the dark that blankets me, but I can see them. With great trepidation, I slink towards the mirror, fretting over what I may see. A part of me already knows, another part of me wants to degrade my mind for taking on such a notion.

I lean over and yowl in shock. My back arches, my tail is on end, and my hair defies gravity. I hiss, instinct coming over me at seeing another cat. I claw at the mirror.

 _You, dummy!_ _It's you!_

I lick my lips, my moew is muffled but still aggressive; a warning for it to not be a trick. I pacify myself completely, daring my body to look again! I can't believe it. I am a cat. A gorgeous cream colored Siamese cat with a grey tail and grey paws. The only part of me I recognize are my grey colored eyes.

A sparkle catches my eye. A collar? A very beautiful jewelled collar is lying on my breast. It dazzles at me tauntingly.

I sigh. This has got to be a nightmare! Wake up!

"Heeeyyyy!"

I freeze, spooked.

"Heeeeere, kitty kitty!" A man sways harshly to the ground. He speaks in a foreign tongue, yet I can comprehend him impeccably. It sounds like Farsi.

 _How the heck do I know that?_

I can also understand that he is completely drunk-his empty bottle is still in his hand. "C'mere," he beseeches.

I stare at him. Deep inside my mind, something is telling me to run. It's a powerful sentiment, but I fight to ignore it.

"Beauty," he muses to himself. "C'mere kitty, kitty!"

My body remains taut, ready to run away, jiggly legs or not. My body might have everything in place for a quadruped, but I still walk on two feet in my head.

"Kitty!"

My tail swishes back and forth in proud annoyance.

The man scowls. "Fine! First all the ladies ignore me, and now girly cats! Fine!" He is about to turn away when he catches something. His eyes stare down at my chest. The collar. His grin widens into something more sinister. "Here, little thing." He crawls towards me on his hands and knees, unable to walk.

My eyes widen, knowing I am in danger of getting hurt or, worse, cat-knapped. I turn around and walk away, legs still unstable.

"Argh! Fuck you!" He flings his bottle at me, and I scamper away with a cry. To hell with my dysfunctional legs! I topple over my feet, but I make it out into the crowded street unscathed. I pause, only to be nearly run over by a cart. I hiss and run.

I'm too irritable and confused to deal with this right now.

A donkey claps it's hooves in my direction and I scratch him. He leaps in the air, screeching. My ears vibrate in pain. I pull them back flat against my head, and hiss loudly.

The man next to the donkey sees me. "Hey! Get lost, you!" He aims his foot at me and kicks. I jump and run, zigzagging my way to safety. Dust particles are floating nonstop in the air, amusing my nose with smells. Some gross, some sad, some funny, some not.

I turn the corner. There are still plenty of people, but at least I'm able to go to the side, out of reach from danger's grasp.

Sitting my butt against the dirt, I wrap my tail around my body. I lift my paw, unable to resist licking it to swipe at my face.

 _I feel more like a cat than I do human. Am I going to be a cat forever?! Is that why I can't remember crap? I'm turning into a full-fledge mice-eating, hairball vomiting, yowling animal?_

I sneeze in effort to show my panic.

 _Oh, God. What is this place? All I know is that this is not the U.S.A., and it definitely doesn't look like the 21st century._

I need to calm down. My eyes close lazily as I do my best to take deep, calming breaths. Inhale. Pant. Exhale. And repeat. In- _Ooooh! what is that?!_ I sniff. That has got to be the most appetizing smell in the world! I lick my lips. I got to know what that is. Nose in the air, I follow the scent. It's unbelievable how accurate the nose of an animal is. Following that scent was a breeze; it was like following a line on a map, all I had to do was lift my nose in the air and follow the trail.

Snaking through the crowd of people, I speedily track my destination. I dodge donkey hooves and desperate hands, yet nothing deters me from my mission. Not even the blaring sun affects me. I know I am close; the smell has gotten more powerful.

 _Thunk!_

My head drums against the wood of a cart. I shake it off. After a few blinks, the blurry vision evaporates. I gaze upon what my nose has taken me.

The sound of chopping and a great gleam of light being reflected off a ginormous knife almost fluffs me out in fear, but the smell of fish and my gurgling stomach keeps me at bay.

"Ah," groans the man wielding the knife. He bends down onto one knee. An instinct, whether sixth or not, told me to not be afraid of this man. I gaze up at him expectantly, eyes wide and bright.

"Who do we have here then, mmm?" He holds out his hand. I lean forward and smell a strange combination of fish and dirt. I lick my lips.

"Oh, I see," he replies, grinning widely. His eyes move down. " _Oh_." His smile turns grim. "Now I truly do see." Standing, he continues his hacking. "Tiny, dainty, and delicate you are...I don't see how royalty can be any different than that."

 _I am not dainty!_ "Meow!"

I freeze. _What was that?_ I meow again, quietly. Another squeak. _Oh, great! A dainty meow!_ I'm a pipsqueak of a cat with a dainty meow. Of course I would have a dainty meow, all my friends found me dainty, even Rick! _Wait…._ Who are they? Whatever.

"Only a cat as pretty as you would be granted a spot with the Khanum. Being blessed with royalty can be a curse and a blessing. Your eyes though...are what are truly unique. They're not the eyes of a cat." His eyes express a wisdom I don't get a privilege to see in many people-how great it is to know that someone else recognizes that I am something different. I am-was-human, after all!

His yellow teeth peek through his lips. "And how can I deny a gorgeous creature a treat?"

I begin to drool as he dangles a fish before my eyes. He chuckles at my enchanted expression before tossing it at my paws gently. "Enjoy it, little highness. And stay out of danger."

" _Little highness"? Whatever!_

I pounce, staring at the fish dead in the eyes. I snatch it by its gills, rubbing my body around the man's leg in thanks before dashing off.

My instincts are telling me that I need to find a safe, secluded pace to eat. The ground is no good. I run down along the road (thank goodness my legs seem to be in order). I'm breathing hard, but I am not close to being winded.

How about a roof?

I find a crooked wood porch. I jump, nearly scaring myself at the air I gain. My legs are as taught as springs. Using my leg muscles, I jump onto a slanted roof, claws scratching as they keep me from slipping down. With ease I climb until I am on a flat surface next to a cracked window. I peek inside. Empty. Well, then. I sneak inside, crawling underneath the bed. I set my fish down, it being that only thing that is consuming my nose and mind. I don't hesitate to grind my way into its guts. I devour it like a teenage boy gobbles a turkey on Thanksgiving. And, in the back of my conscious mind, I'm surprised it actually tastes good.

In minutes there is nothing left but bone. I creep out from under the bed. Satisfied with myself, I lick and clean. I smell dusty, and it was making me sneeze. Then, another smell started to crowd the air.

It was the smell of...the smell of something naughty. For the first time, I take a good look at the inside. There are dingy walls, a cringy bed and poor sheets. I lean closer to the bed and sniff.

Yep...it smells like sex.

Oh, my God! Realization hits me like a brick. Am I in a brothel house? For once I'm glad I am a cat; blushes don't appear on cats. My ears tick, and in deep concentration I'm able to better enable the sound, almost like a megaphone. My ears go back, wishing to cut off the sounds of sexualized moans.

I'd vomit a hairball if I could will it.

Footsteps and a high cackle is heard right beyond my door, and suddenly, two people enter the room. A man and a woman. I scramble under the bed. _Oh no!_

"How long has it been since I last saw you?"

"A week, if my recollection serves me correctly." The man's voice has a baritone timbre, deep and comforting. He has the voice of a protective father.

"My, my. So soon? What brings you back here?" The woman's voice turns sultry and I almost gag.

I hear a quirk in the man's voice, yet it stays dry. "Must be something in your aura. It must magnetize me."

She laughs.

Pitiful attempts at flirting.

"Well, then. I guess I better get started before I loose my magnetism." She leans down to kiss his lips. The bed dips at the edge; the man has sat down. The women's feet levitate up and around, no longer visible. She is on his lap. The smacking noises I hear make my ears twitch. Next door are a cacophony of squeaks and screams. My eye twitches.

 _I need to get out of here! NOW!_

Suddenly, the sounds from above stop.

"What's the matter, Master Khan?"

The name sends a pulse through my body. Why does that name ring a bell? Why does it sound so trustworthy?

"I-I don't know." He clears his throat. The hinges from the bed squeal as he stands up. "I must give my sincerest apologies. I am afraid that this is not what I need after all."

"I can always give you something else. Whatever you need!" Her tone turns desperate.

The man-Khan-stretches out his hand, wrapping hers in his. "Don't worry. I won't take away your pay. This wasn't your fault. I won't burden you with any explanations. This-whatever it is-is something I must piece together myself."

"Well, you sure? Okay. You know where to find me if you change your mind," a grin sneaks up on her face.

He nods before opening the door and leaving.

Miracles do exist!

Every vein in my body wants me to trudge after him, but I don't dare in front of this woman. She'd freak out and I'd get hurt.

Luck, however appears to be on my side tonight. The prostitute yawns, encouraging her to take a nap on the bed. She's out in an instant. I immediately jump out the window, searching for the man. I never really saw his face, but he smelled warm, yet troubled-depressed.

My nose catches him before my eyes are able to distinguish the leggings of his pants. I leap down and swerve after him.

The sun is setting, making the sky go ablaze. A few twinkle of stars are just beginning to make their way into the horizon.

I follow him all the way to his little cottage just beyond the main city. The house looks decent enough; it doesn't look deprived of care.

Khan wanders up to his door and sighs. He takes a moment, hand outstretched on the wood.

He's preparing himself. For what? I have no clue. He enters. And all there is is silence. I tiptoe to his door, sitting myself outside it. I don't want to leave the vicinity. Every single strand of fur on my body is demanding me to sneak into his house.

"Enjoying your trip?" comes a raspy voice.

I leap, hairs on end. I take one glance at the person and everything comes rushing back. All the memories of who I am, where I was, _who she is_!

 _You! What did you do to me?_ I hiss.

"Why all the attitude?" ticks the woman. "I was only trying to help you."

 _Help me?! Help me?! Why is turning me into a cat…?_ I choke off. Too many questions. Too many…

"I know, I know," she soothes. "I'll answer as best I can. Let me start of with this: I helped you because you are now in the land, in the reality, of where your true love is."

 _What?_

"That's right, missy. You are currently in your fantasy, your dreamland. Only now it's your reality."

 _What do you mean? You couldn't possibly…?_

"Welcome to Erik's world, love."


	6. Chapter 5: The Mission

What?! She's nuts!

The hag scoffs. "I am not nuts! I am merely trying to have somebody's dreams come true. Somebody who is worthy, that is."

Somebody who is worthy? I echo. What does that-? What-? My thoughts are muddled, they're bumping into each other like ants scrambling for food. I can't keep up with them.

"Somebody who is worthy to have their dreams come true...with a price." Her voice lilts at the end, her eyes shining with diabolic joy.

My ears go back and I growl lightly in my throat. A warning. I demand answers. Stop being vague!

The hag appeases with a wave of her hand. "Alright. Calm yourself, dear. I found your compassion for those who are considered different endearing. I decided to give you a gift: the chance to help Erik find happiness, maybe even love. Same with you. Yet, being the gypsy I am, I had to add some sort of challenge to it. For my pleasure. So I made you into a cat. We gypsies are selfish, you know. And we like trickery."

My head is spinning. I crumple down on all fours. If this is real...then I am meant to meet Erik-actually meet him!-and give him a chance at love. How? I'm a cat!

The gypsy rolls her eyes. "That's the challenge. Whether or not you're able to return home and have your happily ever after-as they say-is up to you."

Wait-...

The witch waves her arms frantically. "Not now! Things will develop in time. Answers will be shown when the moment comes. I must go." She turns around with a dramatic flare of her arms, her skirt jingling pleasantly around her legs.

But, I stand up, alarmed, what if-what if he doesn't fall in love? What if I can't help him find happiness? What if? What-?

What do you mean if 'I'm not able to return home'?

Her voice booms inside my head, echoing loudly. HUSH!

I cringe, ears drawn. I take a step back.

She sighs, eyes closed. "Whatever will happen to you and to him, will be decided in the end, under my judgement." She smirks. "Am I clear, Crystal? I'll be watching you."

My vision blurs. I blink. She's gone.

To say I am confused is an understatement. This whole situation in unfathomable. Uncanny! But it feels so real.

Do I choose to believe in a realistic fantasy? Or do I refuse what I am seeing in front of my eyes, what can't be described or scientifically explained. I think any scientist would stumble over their words while trying to come to a possible conclusion.

For now I'll conclude that I've gone batty and that I truly believe I am living as a cat in Erik's world. It certainly feels real enough I can smell this world, taste this world, touch this world.

I guess I should play along.

What else do I know? Besides the little bits I got from the gypsy.

Well, I know I am at Nadir's place.

I can assume I have some sort of sixth sense. I'm able to read people's personalities. I was correct about Nadir's character and I had no clue who he was at first.

I am also an object in many mans' eyes because I look like royalty. And I have Cleopatra's necklace clasped to my neck. Let's make it a fact that I must be careful.

So...now what?

I must get to Erik and help him. God help me help him.

"Reza!"

I jump, fur spiking.

"Reza, what are you doing out of bed?" Nadir's stern voice is close. I huddle into a ball, trying to make myself small just outside his door.

"I thought I heard something."

My ears perk. This is Reza, Nadir's son. The poor, confused brat who adored Erik. Well, adores. I'm presently in the past now.

"What did you hear?" comes Nadir's soft, low demand.

"A squeak of some sort. I thought it was perhaps Erik playing a trick on me…"

"Erik won't be stopping by until tomorrow night."

"Aw-!"

"Don't whine, Reza!"

"-but I want to see Erik now!"

My claws dig into the wood.

"Erik is very busy-"

"Now!"

"Erik said he will bring you a gift tomorrow."

Reza hushes, and I hear a thrill of excitement in his tone. I growl in disgust. Brat!

"There! There, Father! Another sound!"

"Quiet, Reza!"

Everything stills. I hear nothing for a few minutes. Was it me Reza has been hearing? Do I meow out loud?

The door flung open. I froze, petrified. Nadir steps outside and gazes around, at first occupied with the deserted land and sky. His eyes quickly land on my quivering form before moving down to my collar. He stares for a moment, then guffaws. "Erik," he mutters. "Stop stealing-" he swoops down and snatches me before I could hiss. My instinct is to scratch him, but something stops me. "-the Khanum's cats!" With a heaved sigh, Khan carries me inside. "If you keep this up, the Khanum will decapitate you and have my son and I gutted like fish," he mutters.

True. Erik always was a bit eccentric. Stealing was a thrill for him; a source of power and control. And he was confidant in that specific power.

Reza follows, rolling his wheelchair in from behind. His his eyes are bright. "Did Erik do that, Father? I knew he would do some-!"

"Reza!" Khan sternly replies. "This is not something you should encourage Erik to do. Nor is it to be mentioned that this happened." He sets me down on the kitchen counter. Still on edge, my back stays arched. "We could get into major trouble if the Khanum realizes that her cat is missing. And we could get wrapped up into that mess too." he adds.

"I didn't encourage him, Father." Reza was looking down. One sniff and I knew he was lying. Erik would do anything for the boy.

Khan's silence told me he didn't believe his son either. He places a small bowl of milk in front of me. My bones instantly melt as I dive my tongue into the creamy goodness.

Reza stares at me. I ignore him.

"She's a pretty cat, don't you think, Father?"

Khan nods solemnly. "She is."

I bristle with pride, my tongue lapping as much as it could grab. Licking my lips, I sit up. I clean my paw, and stare back at Khan. He mimics my stare, but it's more critical, contradicting.

"Interesting eyes," he mumbles to himself.

"Huh?"

Nadir bends closer to me. "I've never seen a pair of eyes like that on a cat before. They're almost...well, human. No wonder the Khanum wanted you."

Another one who saw who I really was. I quickly waltzed to Khan and rubbed against the hand leaning on the table, purring. I sit by his hand, gazing at him obediently. Khan gazes at me curiously, looking absolutely puzzled.

Never seen a cat behave like this, huh?

"What do you mean, Father?"

Nadir snaps out of it. "Nothing, Reza. Time for bed."

Reza begins his rampage of complaints, claiming he'll miss Erik. Khan reassures him that Erik will not be stopping in tonight. As each of them go into their bedrooms, I sit still for a moment, absorbing everything that has occurred tonight, still dangerously baffled.

I leap off the kitchen counter to the window sill. I absorb the outdoors, ears twitching excitedly. The moon shines, reflecting its image in my eyes.

Eventually, I abandoned the kitchen. I curl up on a pillow in the living room, my human side giving in to the moon's lull to sleep. If there is something I have to hand to Reza, it's that we both adore Erik.


	7. Chapter 6: Truth in Fiction

I don't know how long I slept, but it was definitely more than eight hours. The sun was actually beginning to set when my eyes began to groggily blink open. My vision swarms a bit before adjusting.

I yawn, tongue arching back into my mouth. I stretch downwards, only to plop down into a curled position to lick my butt.

I wish that was something I could've stopped, but the pull to clean that particular region was too strong.

"She's awake, Father!"

I jump to my feet. This is why 'Psycho' is still scary. Never sneak up on someone who is taking a bath!

Reza wheels himself to me.

"Don't touch her, Reza!" Nadir voices from the kitchen. "She is the Khanum's property, remember?"

"I won't."

And he doesn't. He stares at me; I return the favor.

"You're eyes don't look that weird to me."

I guess a sniveling child like yourself wouldn't be able to tell the difference.

"You are pretty though…"

Well, there's something. Thank you.

We continue to stare, unsure what to do with one another. This turns into its own little game for some time until…

"Father…"

"Yes?"

"She won't stop staring at me."

I blink. You won't stop staring at me.

"Pardon?"

"The cat won't stop looking at me."

My name is Crystal.

"...Are you looking at her?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then."

It takes all my strength to keep me from chuckling. It's only common sense, Reza.

"But-"

"Reza, go find something else to do."

Reza, dejected, sighs, "Fine." He moves from the living room to the creaky hallway. Bored, I prance behind him. Reza wheels himself outside onto the back porch. The sky is bursting with blinding oranges and yellows. He stares out at the horizon, sighing quietly to himself. And it hits me like a punch in the gut: I've never seen anyone look more lonely.

It must be hard for him. His sickness makes him disabled, an invalid. The other children must want nothing to do with him. He and Erik share that bond.

Guilt gnaws my heart. I pitter-patter to him. I look up from the side of his wheelchair. He hasn't noticed me. I leap onto his lap.

"Oh!"

I set myself right on his thighs, rubbing my head against his hand excruciatingly. I might be trying to be nice, but I still deserve some attention. Reza interprets my gesture and begins petting me, hesitant at first, then growing more confident. I purr as his hands grows stronger in touch.

"Reza." Nadir Khan stops besides the wheelchair. He stares down at me and glares. "I told you not to touch her. She's royalty. Touching her is like touching the Khanum-you aren't aloud to unless given permission otherwise."

"But Father, she came to me. She sat in my lap!"

Khan sighs deeply, as if trying to settle his nerves. One sniff and I can smell the anxious air emitting from him. I leap from Reza's lap to appease Nadir. I rub myself against his leg, purring loudly.

Khan shakes his head, as if appalled. He probably his. He's never seen a cat as intuitive as I. "Erik-" he starts, "-will be arriving within the hour. Probably sooner. Albeit, with him, it is most difficult to tell."

My heart pumps faster. This is it. I'll finally be able to meet Erik! And the mission the old hag has given me will finally begin.

Reza's eyes shine. "Will he show me some more tricks, Father? What about my gift?!"

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Lonely...and only a child, I remind myself.

"Perhaps. But I need to talk with him first. There are some dreer matters we need to discuss. Privately," comes his grave reply.

He must be talking about me. About how stealing royalty-even a cat-is wrong. He really is Erik's conscience.

"Father-"

"Reza!" His father hisses sharply. It was a warning, Reza senses that and concedes. "After we have finished our topic of discussion, he will come see you. I promise." He places a hand on Reza's shoulder. I pray Reza won't shy away, for I know it would wound Khan deeply, and I fear their relationship would be strained even further than its current state. Reza doesn't move. My prayers were answered.

Khan's lip twitches to a small smile. He gazes down at me. "And you must be hungry."

I lick my lips.

Khan releases a dark chuckle. "There is some milk in the kitchen."

I dash to said area, knowing that I've left behind two disbelieving people.

"It's like she speaks our very own language, herself," Khan mutters to himself.

Indeed, Khan. Yes, indeed!

I quickly spot the bowl of milk. It was calling my name, beckoning me! I jump onto the kitchen counter and lap it up eagerly. I was starved!

My ears twitch when a ghostly figure sneaks through the door, only the slightest trace of footsteps could be heard. I freeze. Every bone in my body knows who that is. I can smell him; it was the smell of death-it smelled like an omen. I can smell his pain, his loneliness, his neediness. I could smell what it is he craves.

It's him. I know it's him!

Khan rushes past. "Erik! It is you, then."

"Who else would it be, Khan?"

My fur stands on end! His voice! No wonder it is written that he could control people with it. It trances you, hypnotizes you, curses you, and blesses you. It is melodious and harmonic. It is heaven and hell against your ear. It is gorgeous and devastating. It is music!

My eyes shut momentarily. Oh! how I want to take a quick peek at him. To see who that beautiful voice belongs to! I turn around, dropping to the ground. It was then that I suddenly woke up.

"'See who the voice belongs to?'" I already know! The power of his voice shocked me. I never realized...that powerful! Almost omnipotent. I suddenly understood why Erik was stereotyped as a dangerous being. The thought cracked my skull. He is dangerous. He is also eccentric and unstable. I must be careful with him. I need to gain his trust first in order to relieve myself of the abuse, harm, and wonders his voice could cause me. If he chose to do so.

I know that gaining his trust won't be an easy task. But I'm willing to learn and fail a thousand times before he places his heart in his hands to give to me. And hopefully his trust in me can help him trust another. One who will love him and who he can love too.

I know Christine Daae is the love of his life, but there must be a reason that the gypsy took me to this time. Does he need to find love here first, in order for him to learn how to treat Christine? I guess I'll see how this ends up, and I'll pray I succeed, otherwise something bad could happen to me if I fail.

"What did you want to see me about, Khan? You know we were arranged to meet later tonight, but your letter this morning was...rather a nuisance."

My ears perk. Could his voice drip with any more sarcasm and drool humor?

"You know what this is about, Erik!" Khan spits out.

"No...your letter was very vague."

"Stop it, Erik! You know very well that I know you stole that cat!"

A moment of silence. "A cat?" His voice slices the air. "Really, Khan, have you gone mad? You think I'd be that puerile to steal a simple cat? Do I not have anything better to do with my time?"

"Oh! Not just any cat Erik-I know you know this. You like to play with others' emotions. A cat of royalty is what I talk about A cat who is the property of the Khanum herself!"

More silence. Erik's voice slithers from his mouth. "I haven't stolen any cat of royal blood since you reprimanded me like a petulant child the last time."

Chills radiate my body.

Khan rubs his forehead, tired. "Then why do I have a cat in the kitchen with a jeweled necklace tied to her neck?"

"Why, Khan. I never knew I was that much of an influence on you."

"Damn you! It wasn't me!"

Erik sighs. "Show me this cat, Khan, I know you want to."

A smell-putrid-oozes at me in green waves. The rest of Khan's and Erik's conversation diminish in my ears. My back arches. I do not like this smell, but what is it? My body grows rigid, angry. Territorial. I hiss. Diving underneath the table, I growl low in my throat.

I faintly see two pairs of feet in the kitchen doorway, I vaguely hear Khan question my presence, and his suggestion that I may be outside with Reza again.

At that moment my ears tune in to a yelp of pain, then a cry of fear.

"Reza!" Khan runs outside, Erik follows.

It is then that I smell him. Another cat is in my domain and attacking Reza! Like a lion hunting his prey, I zoom from the kitchen, dashing past Khan and Erik, startling them. Khan stumbles before crying out to Reza once more.

I can feel Erik's eyes on my form, I wish to look back, but not yet, not until this situation has been handled.

A black cat, huge, is clawing at Reza's legs. I don't even think about it. I sprint, picking up speed before ramming my entire body into the black cat.

He stumbles, rolling down a few feet. I can feel the curses radiating from his body. I know he is feral. I stand a few feet away from Reza toes raised, back arched, fur higher than it has ever been. My ears flatten as I give him an eerie yowl and a look that should have him combust into flames at any moment.

Reza is crying, and I hear Khan grab the handle of his wheelchair, yanking him back.

The male hisses. What is your issue?

My territory! My human! I yelp.

Rage boils his blood. He does it before I can even sense it. He pounces, his jaws ripping out my jugular, my necklace falls to my paws.. Blood soaks my cold body, which falls limply to the grass. Ringing bursts my ears. Then, milliseconds later, the ringing disappears, and I can hear the pleasant chirp from the birds, and the shrill cry of the mules. I pull my body up, feeling riveted and raged.

And confused. What the hell just happened?

The cat, his mouth full of my throat, gives one last fearful sound before running away into the bushes.

So that truly happened...I did die, but... I sniff myself. I smell fine. There's no blood or anything. And my necklace is back around my neck!

It was like it never happened...but I know it did!

My eyes flicker to the right at some movement.

The gypsy!

Her dress camouflages with the bushes. She's silent, her stare dead, as she lifts up nine fingers. She pulls one down. Eight.

What?

"Nine lives," she whispers directly in my ear, although she must be twenty feet away from me. "Now you have eight." She vanishes to smoke.

Oh, my God! Like the saying about cats having nine lives. I just lost one, so now I have eight!? What happens when I have no lives left?

It is silent except for Reza's small whimpers and Khan's soft words of reassurance. My body seems to be in a frame of surprise.

They didn't see any of that? They must've been checking on Reza.

"Royalty, Khan?" Erik replies with snide condescendance. "I've never seen royalty fight like that-cat or not. Never believed they had the sense to sacrifice their perfect countenance."

I turn, unable to keep my eyes off of him for another second. And there he is: tall, skeletal, with death surrounding every centimeter of his being. His mask covers all of his face except his mouth.

And there is where my heart lives.


	8. Chapter 7: Strange Being

Nadir rolls a sobbing Reza into the house. Erik trails behind him. "He's bleeding profusely. I'll probably need to stitch him up."

Setting Reza by the sink, Nadir holds out his arm, wrapping a towel around it. Reza whimpers. Khan runs a soothing hand down Reza's scalp.

I leap onto the table, pacing the wooden top. That is a lot of blood. The cut is deep. Thank goodness Erik is here! Oh boy, I'm watching the master at work!

Erik pulls back the towel, his face registering nothing.

"Well?" urges Khan.

"I need you to grab whatever you can to sterilize the wound. Then I'll need something to wrap around it when I'm done stitching."

"So it will need stitches."

"Regrettably. Now hurry."

Khan's feet stomp out of the room.

Erik gently removes the rag from Reza's arm. Reza's tears pour heavily down his face. He gazes adamantly at Erik. I realize wants comfort. And he wants it from Erik.

That is not going to happen. Erik is not one to coo reassurances. It's a rare treat-almost like that of a blue moon-when he displays his emotions to Nadir.

I meow, trying in some way to communicate my sympathies. All I got were teary eyes and a rough hush from Erik.

I hated it and loved it.

"Any time now, Nadir!" roars Erik.

Khan's reply is muffled to Reza's ears, but I heard it perfectly. I guarantee expletives in his response.

Reza releases a harsh sob. It pierces my ears. Erik's eye twitches.

What can I do to help Reza?

Ooh.

What can I do to make Reza laugh?

Well, when I was human, I used to watch cat videos to help make me laugh. I am a cat now, so maybe I can use my feline charms to spawn some hilarity.

Let the show begin.

I hiss, picturing that male cat from outside. My fur puffs into spikes and my back arches. Reza's sobs catch in his throat. He stares.

I meow fiercely, clawing at the table. I'm basically making a fool of myself. I waltz back and forth on the table, my head bending at an odd angle. I jump lightly on the tip of my toes like a ballerina crossing over to her partner. Then I jump back, hiss, and do a roll. Mission Impossible! Yeah!

Erik's eyes turn toward me, unreadable. He doesn't look away though either.

A small giggle emits from Reza's lips.

Pretending that his giggle infused my "fury", I prance toward the edge of the table in his direction. Now for the grand finale. Not watching where I was going, I "slip" off the table, crying out as I do so. Reza laughs so hard he wheezes.

Nadir enters the scene. "What-?"

"There is something wrong with your cat," drawls Erik. "It hissed at the air, going mental, then it fell off the table.

"M-my cat?" Nadir sputters. "She's royalty, I tell you!"

"Mmm."

He scowls at Erik, then me.

I roll onto my back, rubbing it against the floor. See? I'm cute.

"That was really funny, Dad!" hiccups Reza, tears still visible in his eyes.

I jump onto Reza's lap, feeling accomplished. 

Erik glares at me. "You will have to move if you wish for me to attend to the boy."

I sneeze. Fine! But I deserve a multitude of "lovies" later!. I leave the room, going behind the entryway. I sit down, not wanting to be too far from the action.

Khan snickers.

"What?"

"I swear, it's like she understands what we're saying."

Erik snorts. "Impossible! Reza, I need you to hold this rag down, okay? Good boy. This will be painful, but I will be as fast as I can. Nadir, clamp yourself onto his arm, I don't want him to move."

Reza's whimpers and small shouts, stab my ears. Nadir whispers words of adoration and sympathy; words of bravery. The image of what is happening appears in my head, and the idea of skin being tugged by a needle makes me feel slightly woozy; I'm suddenly thankful for my era and how much we have developed medically.

"Done," says Erik.

Erik kept his word: that was fast.

"I'm so proud of you."

Reza sniffles. "Thanks, Father." Another sniffle. "What he says is true, you know."

"What about?"

Oh, God! Erik's voice is melodic. What a drug!

"The cat. She listens. Her every move, it's like she can understand what we're saying."

The room is quiet.

"No more need for this nonsense," Erik's voice is clipped. "I'll take the cat, and return her to the Khanum's room."

"So you did steal her," Khan's accusatory tone crushes my ears.

"I did not. I'll have to see how she escaped. However, the room is secure. I designed it; it is impeccable that she should escape. Maybe we have a new traitor in the kingdom."

"I'll go with you."

"Oh, so you believe me now, I see."

"No. I want to see if I can find any evidence of someone else being in the room."

"If you must, Nadir. I don't know why you insist on accompanying me on everything. I'm not that much fun, you know."

"Trust me, I know. Well, Reza, it's been quite the day for you. I'm certain you're tired."

"Yep," Reza's voice is meek. I wouldn't be surprised if he fell asleep already.

Khan wheels Reza out of the kitchen, moving down through the dark hallway, but I can see everything. They turn left after passing three doors. Reza's room.

Erik follows only a few steps.

There is some shuffling, then…

"Erik! Please sing me a song."

Erik unfolds his arms. "As you wish."

I couldn't resist. As Erik's form disappears through Reza's door, I run after him, being as stealthy as possible. Erik sits on the edge of Reza's bed. There is silence, then there are a choir of angels in the room.

Erik's speaking voice was somewhat describable, but his singing voice...there is no description! It was everything anyone could hope to hear. It was the voice of an angel; lilting, heavy, buried, floating, mournful, glorious, triumphant...everything. Anything. Erik's mission was to get Reza to sleep, so his lullaby mainly infected his target, but I could feel the lure to sleep. I could feel the pull of his magic, his curse.

Nadir yawns.

Apparently, I am not the only one.

I settle on the floor, unable to stand anymore.

As Erik finishes, he carefully stands up. Erik and Nadir walk out, Reza's soft breathing barely audible. Nadir shuts the door.

"I will give you one thing, Nadir."

"Huh?"

"The cat was comical. Almost like she knew Reza needed a laugh. Creatures-particularly felines-are certainly strange beings, no?"


	9. Chapter 8: The Palace

Erik kept his promise and stopped by early in the morning to collect me. He greeted Nadir at the door, then came to the wicker chair where I stared at him languidly. Nadir hired a "nanny"-I can't recall the exact word he used to call her-to take care of Reza while he joined Erik and myself to the Khanum's palace.

Erik stepped towards me while Nadir spoke once more with the nanny. I realized that as my que. I could have walked beside them both, but I honestly did not feel like ruining the pads of my paws on the rough gravel today, so I begged, rubbing myself against Erik's legs.

"She likes you," comments Nadir with audible surprise.

"What does she want?"

I gaze up at him adoringly, purring as loudly as possible. Not working. Time for phase two. I stretch vertically, gently pawing against his trouser leg.

"For you to pick her up, I suspect."

"I'm not carrying her," retorts Erik. "Khan, you grab her."

Knowing to never argue with Erik, Khan rolls his eyes before taking a step towards me. I hiss and claw back.

Khan sighs. "Erik, just pick up the cat."

"No."

"Why not?"

Erik stares at Khan, incredulous. "Me? The Angel of Death? Carrying a cat!? Please, Daroga. I'll lose my image, and then the Khanum will be more vengeful than a vulture!"

"Erik!" Khan yells, patience lost. "Just pick up the cat."

Erik's displeasure rolls off him in waves. He glares at me. I mew sweetly. "Fine."

I leap into his arms, eager for his...chilling embrace. He really is cold. I snuggle against his chest, purring contentedly.

"See? She wants you, Erik."

Erik stiffly turns, murmuring a curt, "Let's go."

It's so early, there are still a few stars left in the sky. The morning is busy, but not nearly as hectic as it is during the afternoon. The town is calm, but the laughter of children can be heard as they chase each other across the dirt. The weather is chilly, dewy almost. I can feel the water collect in my fur, thankfully Erik's clothed arms are keeping me warm. I observe the markets while Khan and Erik chat aimlessly. There's a fish market, a bakery, a fruit market, a cloth market, and...a mirror market. That reminds me...

Erik's voice lulled me to sleep last night. I had a chaotic day, so I was already fatigued, but his lullaby knocked me out in seconds. I wobbled over to the couch, barely able to claw my way up the side (I couldn't gather the energy to leap), curled up into a ball, and snoozed like a baby.

I guess in this case, a kitten.

I remember having the strangest dream, however. I was human. And I was back home and in my century. My house was how it always looked, except all the mirrors were smashed. I was determined to see my body, to know I was actually present. I eventually found one in our yard out back. The grass was covered in rose petals, some gold and crinkly, others blood red and fresh. I walked up to the mirror, and when I gazed at my visage-horror! I tried to scream, but I couldn't manage a gurgle. Half my face was that of a cat, the other half my human self. Then the gypsy lady appeared behind me. "Soon," she whispers. "Soon, you shall be seen."

I woke up after that.

Half an hour later, I was debating whether it was just a useless dream or if it was a message sent from the gypsy herself. I'm hoping it's the former. I don't wish to see her face so close to mine.

"How are you going to go about this, Erik?" Khan nibbles his lip. "Are you going to alert the Khanum about her cat?"

"If I did, I doubt I would get a reward."

"True." Khan fidgets with his clothes, his hands radiating the nervous energy his body is trying to conceal. "She'd torment you. Her own sadistic fetish would overpower her. And she appears to enjoy tormenting you, especially."

That's right. The Khanum is the worst woman to ever exist. And she always took her sick, bloodlust joys on Erik.

"What are you babbling about, Daroga?" Erik calls Khan by his formal name. I suspect we are in an area where "ears" are placed about; someone who would love to discover a secret to expose to the Khanum in hopes for a gift.

"I'm talking about her Majesty's manner towards you." Khan lowers his voice to an inaudible volume; only my ears and Erik's acute ears could hear. "She is a vindictive woman who desires bloodshed. You, my friend, have a grace about you, not only in the arts, but in the act of murder. Your genius torture devices and your hand at the punjab lasso attracts her Majesty to you immensely. When someone like her finds someone like you to complete her missing piece, they wish to possess it."

Erik stares at Khan."It's sexual for her, I know. It's appalling, yet it makes complete sense." Erik's statement leaves me to wonder what he is speculating. I'm hoping Khan will ask him to explain, but he doesn't.

Wise choice. When Erik doesn't wish to accommodate his sentiments, he can get snippy. What I can smell off him, though, emanates a lot of feelings, but mainly confusion. Confusion why someone would feel that way towards him, maybe? I also smell disgust and anger.

The palace comes into view, and I must say the architecture and the colors are astounding, breathtaking. Erik, not one for conventional entrances, seeks one of his secret passageways. He stares at the smooth wall, humming as he does so. An exclamation comes forth from his lips, and he depresses one patch of the wall, pushing it inward. It sinks in, then slides back to the surface. A piece of the wall the size of a door opens, revealing a staircase.

My ears twitch erratically, my tail flicking from side to side.

Nadir chuckles. "She's like a kid at Christmas."

"She's not human, you know." Erik clambers up the stairs. Nadir follows.

"No, but you said yourself last night that she acts like one."

"I disagree. I just said the cat was comical."

"Yes, comical; like she knew Reza needed a laugh."

"Your point, Daroga?" The staircase was dark and narrow. The dust was so thick I sneezed three times. Nadir stumbled upon the steps a few times. Erik did not, but I believe Erik can thank his keen eyesight for that. A bright light can be seen a couple feet ahead, a door not far beyond that. Erik brings out a key from his pocket and unlocks the door. We enter, what I can only imagine to be, his bedchambers.

The room is majestic. The bed looks barely used, no doubt from Erik's insomnia. To the left lies the bathroom, and in front of us are two doors. Erik throws them open. This must be the "living" room. To the right is a piano, of course. There are piles upon piles upon piles of books! They're all cluttered, with papers spilling out the sides. There are drawings and staff paper everywhere! Beyond that is a small kitchen. The colors mainly consist of dark maroons and golds.

His scent slams my nose. I can smell him everywhere. And now I can smell how calm and troubled he is. He likes his room; he's safe here, but this is also not home for him-it's dangerous. I squirm in his grasp, needing to explore.

Erik releases me.

"No!" Nadir cries.

I don't run, I only sniff.

"Why would you let her go, Erik? We still need to take her to the Khanum's feline sanctuary."

He shrugs. "I can catch her."

I return to Erik's feet. Okay, I'm ready to go. Erik gives me a curious look and takes a few steps forward. I follow. He stops. I stop.

"Interesting…"

"Aha! You do see it," exclaims Nadir.

"See what?" barks Erik.

"How she acts like she's human."

Erik scowls, and continues walking. Nadir and I trail behind him. Erik turns left, opening another door which lead into an immaculate, shiny hallway.

There are many pillars, all curved into a dome. There are doors every three hundred feet with paintings surrounding the walls. The doors are colossal and brandished with redwood. After a few more quick steps, Eriks stops, opening the door. Immediately we are greeted by the shrill cry of felines!

Erik would be the kind to refuse this idea, but cats really are his spirit animal. He attracts felines like honey attracts bears. Erik shuts the door, already having to shoo away several cats. Nadir and I are ignored. A few hiss at me and show their agitation. I gave it right back to them. They started it after all.

My nose is about to die from all the data it's gathering. I smell dirt, poop, vomit, hormones, and a crap-ton of emotions. There are Siamese cats, Maine Coons, Sphinxes, Tabbies, Ragdolls, Bengals, and more! So, so much more.

Their rooms, if I may say so, are quite elegant, and have the objects all cats need. There are toys, water bowls, and a separate room for the cats to use the restroom. Then, to my right, I see a room that has authentic grass, trees, and a pond. With actual fish in it! There are birds in cages and-ooh! Lizards! I wondered what that scuffling sound was. Erik did a fabulous job decorating the room.

Erik starts inspecting. "Look for any hint of damage. Any nick in the paint, any scratches on the doorknob, anything, everything."

Nadir clears his throat, "Yep." He goes to the other end of the room.

A young kitten stumbles up to me. He freezes, icy blue eyes wide and frantic. His gray hair puffed. Hey! He rolls on the floor. Let's play!

My blood begins to pump wildly. Something builds up from inside me. Yes! My tail swishes swiftly. Let's play! I pounce, but his agility surpasses my own, and he dodges my maneuver. We circle each other like vultures before diving at each other. Our yowls and growls are lighthearted. Other cats try to join, but we refuse their invitations. We are our own world.

"I am not seeing any sign of forced entry." Nadir pants gently.

Erik rubs his chin. "Neither am I. I find that rather disturbing."

"What could this mean?"

"It could mean-no, there weren't any cracks, holes, or secret entryways to this particular room-the cat could not have escaped!"

"Could someone have stolen the key?" Nadir ponders aloud. "There is only one key, and that is in the Khanum's room."

Erik discards this quickly. "No, she keeps it heavily hidden. I am the only one who contains the knowledge of its whereabouts."

"How come?"

"How come I know or how come she keeps them hidden? Specifics matter, Nadir."

With a small tsk, Nadir specifies his question. "How do you know?"

"I built the room. It was under her courtesy that I know."

They look so serious. I untangle myself from the kitten. Go along, kid. He scrambles away. I sashay towards Erik and Nadir.

"So, then what? If there is no possibility of a culprit and there is no way the cat could have escaped, then what?"

Erik glares at Nadir. "Then our only plausible conclusion is that this cat does not belong to the Khanum."

Nadir takes a couple breaths before speaking, letting the depth of the statement sink in. "Then, where did she come from? Where did she get a collar like that? Who does she belong to?"

"Do we have any other royals in the region of late?"

Nadir shakes his head, removing his skullcap to rub a hand through his hair. "Not that I am aware of. You know how the Khanum enjoys her secret rendez-vous." He steals a peek at me. I look back, blinking once. "I'd have to check admissions and records to be sure."

"Do so. Otherwise, we have a mystery."

"Should we leave her here?"

I yowl, hissing loudly. NO! My instincts want me to show my aggression, but I hold back.

Erik peeks back. "I don't think she wants that."

"Agreed."

"Take her back home with you, Nadir. Reza likes her."

"But she likes you more. She has made that obvious."

Erik releases an astounded cry. "I cannot keep a cat. I can't even keep an aloe plant alive-and those hardly require parenting! Besides, animals don't like me."

Nadir points in my direction. "She does."

That's true.

"Mere feline infatuation. I have that effect on women, you know. I am a kind of Don Juan with all sorts of female creatures."

"Erik…"

"I jest, Nadir! Besides, she has no clue what kind of monster she is dealing with."

You aren't a monster! I meow wildly, prolonging my cries. Nadir raises his eyebrows. "I don't think she liked what you said."

"People don't normally like hearing the truth."

"There you go, referring to this feline as a human again."

"What I said was a quip, and is common knowledge."

"But that's the second time-"

Nadir's words catch in his throat. Erik's visage is ferocious, his glare as cold as ice. That is definitely a "don't-argue-with-me" look.

"I am not taking this feline with me," growls Erik. "That's final!"

Their argument has distracted both to the point where I was able to sneak up on Erik and rub my scent on his trouser leg. Instantly the comments stop.

"See?" gushes Nadir. "She prefers you, Erik."

Erik steps back. "I am not taking her with me, Khan! Ludacris…" Erik pivots on his heel and dashes back to his room. Nadir and I lock eyes for a moment, then I exit the room and sprint towards Erik. I stay a couple feet behind. I can smell him; his anger, frustration, and confusion. He is confused about me. He finds me to be a unique creature in behavior, and he is puzzled whether or not I am royalty.

Erik comes to a halt. I copy him. He turns around, staring at me. Chills run through my body.

"What are you doing?"

I cock my head.

"You are not staying with me. Don't you know it's improper for a lady and a man to stay in the same room?"

He blinks. "What am I doing? Talking and joking frivolously to a cat…"

I continue to follow him, jumping through his open doors.

"Hey!"

I hide underneath the desk.

"Rascal." He elegantly drops down into his seat at his desk. His leg bounces anxiously, his hands balled up into tight fists. He appears to be in deep concentration. His eyes lock onto mine. We stare at each other while the din of children's screams and the roll of carts strolling by can be heard outside. Then he reaches under his desk. Something pops, but I don't see what, then he pulls out-

NO!

He is not doing morphine!

I growl underneath the desk. He ignores me. I leap out. I will not be ignored!

I hop onto his lap. He sneers. "Get off!" I am pushed down from his lap. Feeling dejected, I hide underneath the desk. He injects the needle into his arm. His head leans back, eyes closed. His lips part, emitting a small sigh.

If I could cry I would. Help. How can I help him?

What can I do? I'm only a cat, after all.


	10. Chapter 9: Emotions

The rage radiating from my eyes would terrify any sane being on the planet, but Erik is not entirely sane, and he does not consider himself a human; yet, besides the point, drugged-up Erik is a messy recipe of emotions.

At first I glared from underneath the piano, viciously cursing him in my head. How dare he take drugs! That vile, incompetent man! He shoved me aside that asinine...ooh...asshole! The lion that resides in my body was riled up. It refused to tame until my ears perked up at Erik's breathing pattern.

He was breathing deeply, his fingers grazed the keys of his piano so softly, that you'd think it would crumble under a slight prick of a finger, before playing the most lethargic, intense, emotive music of your life!

The emotions behind the music were strong, but the way he played hypnotized me. It was almost sexual. The way he would thrust his body to the rhythm, how his fingers caressed the keys, how he poured his very soul into his music. My ears would flatten at the dynamics, but my heart was pounding to hear every single note. Only when he stopped to jot a quick note onto his sheet paper would the spell break momentarily. My glare dissipates, and all I could do was admire the man at the piano.

This continues for hours. Until the stars in the sky shine brightly, twinkling down at us. Erik stops his harsh playing, rubbing his chin in thought. I take this moment to flee to the window, jumping onto the ledge so I can observe the stars. A breeze ruffles my fur. The smell of fish hits me, and I realize I am starving. And thirsty. When Erik was playing, it was like everything was fulfilled; not a thing was wrong with the world.

Erik chuckles maliciously. My tail flicks. Can I convince him to feed me? I scuttle to him. Erik massages his wrists, gently prodding his thin skin. His mask is lifted so his mouth is visible. I meow gently. Erik freezes, then grins widely, like a creepy clown. "You are still here, highness?"

Internally, I slump. I should have left him alone.

"You are a curious thing," he mutters. His shoulders jerk upward as he barks a laugh. Eyeing me, he slinks to the floor. My head cocks in wonder. He barks another laugh, his finger settling against his lips. "Shh. Don't tell Nadir I told you, but I do think you act like a human."

I want to laugh. If I was human, I would laugh. I would also be a bit disturbed.

I meow, mainly out of concern. Erik leans forward, resting his stomach on the floor, his hand on his chin. Suddenly, I can vision him as a boy.

"Pretty girl." Erik reaches out a hand, then abruptly pulls back. "Ma mere used to tell me that I could never have pretty things, but I always craved beauty." Erik snorts, finding whatever is running through his mind humorous in this dark moment. "Beasts need beauty to live. Maybe that's why I am dead!" Erik continues to laugh, all the blissful tone gone from his voice-this is true ugly. His head is on the floor, slightly maneuvering his mask. Then he's quiet. His shoulders shake, little wisps of air escaping from his mouth, a sniffle sounds from the nose I know he doesn't have.

I gaze down in sorrow. And, with much regret, I feel pity. All the force in the world could not rid me of the pity I feel.

"Maybe that's why beautiful things die around me. Beasts and beauties aren't meant to be together. I am a curse-the devil's child!" His hands clasp themselves behind his head, sheltering himself from the world that's treated him horribly.

"I am death, which is why things will never live around me." A small whimper. "Sasha…"

The name strikes me as familiar, then it hits me. Sasha! The dog he had as a child! Is that why he feels like he can't take care of me? She died in a ghastly fashion, but it wasn't his fault. Deep inside, I know a child would feel that way, they would feel like it was their fault; guilt like that is hard to banish, especially if you were never told differently.

"People are cruel!" He laments loudly, his fist banging the floor. My tail poofs as I flinch. "They are horrendously ugly to themselves...to animals. Oh! She didn't deserve to die. I should have stopped...she was my only friend."

Still sniveling like a child, I cautiously approach him. My face stretches until my nose dances over his hands, now gloved (a security blanket). I can smell ink and sweat. I also smell utter despair. I brush my whiskers against them, washing my scent on him. Erik gasps, head sticking up. His yellow eyes pierce mine. My face brushes his masked cheek, my tongue quickly grazing his ear and the ends of his hair. Erik sits up completely, hand against his head. I know I'm being extremely daring-this just feels right. Being as benign as possible, I step onto his lap, curling myself into a ball. I close my eyes, purring contentedly. I won't need food tonight-this will fulfill me for now.

The rustling of clothes alarms my ears, expecting him to get angry and throw me off his lap. Instead I feel a feather of a touch against my head. My paws begin to march on his pant leg. His touch is so gentle, like how he touched his piano. His scratches behind my ears. I note with delight that his gloves are off again. I don't think he would've done that sober. The way his hands play with my fur cause shivers to go up my spine. Slowly I feel sleep lull me into darkness as I hear Erik's last words: "Beautiful girl."


	11. Chapter 10: Change of Rules

Under no pretense, no warning, just from the rudeness of nothing, my eyes snap open. I blink, then squint. It's difficult to see. As a cat I find that hard to believe. I should be able to see everything in the dark.

I give a slight murmur. There are brilliant moonbeams illuminating from the window. Maybe I'll stand outside for a while. I use my hands to…

Wait.

Hands!?

Fully awake, I see I am still propped on Erik's body. Well, half of me, anyway. My torso is on his legs, the other half of me… I got legs?! In thirty seconds I complete a full evaluation: hands, hair (not fur), legs, no tail, no paws or claws. I'm human?! Again!?

Golden rays of joy filter through me. I'm human! I gently caress my skin, my bare skin. I-oh! I don't have any clothes.

I jerk in shock, trying to bolt up from Erik's lap, only to slip onto his stomach.

"Oof!"

I freeze, staring at his eyes. Damn, he's blinking! My body curls, trying to conceal my nudity as much as possible. I feel my body turn red. Erik is going to see me naked! I should move into a dark corner, but his keen eyes would spot me instantly. This is not how I wanted to meet Erik as a human for the first time!

Maybe he won't notice I'm no longer a cat. Oh, who am I kidding?

His eyes adjust to the dark; the only light is from the moon. Two golden orbs land on me, and I feel him squirm in surprise. The orbs bare down onto my body, caressing me like a gentle breeze.

It's silent for a long time. Did he fall back asleep? I slowly turn, my hands covering my chest. I gasp when our eyes connect. My human eyes and his cat-like crescents meet for the first time. Needles prick my skin in pleasing manners as goosebumps crawl down my arms. With a calm indifference, Erik's eyes wander up and down my body. I start to shiver, and not from the cold-I'm actually burning!

"This has to be effects from the morphine. I need tell Nadir to get something less intense tomorrow," Erik mutters. "Otherwise why would a beautiful-" he lets out a burst of air "-naked woman be on my lap?"

If he thinks he's still affected from the morphine, that could mean he would disregard this encounter entirely.

"It...is a rather odd predicament."

His eyes flash, whether from amusement or suprise, I don't know. "Ah, the illusion speaks! I wonder what else she'll say."

I take that as an offer to talk more, so...will do. "Um…"

"Not a good start."

My eyebrow jerks. Is he teasing me? Erik!? Two can play that game. (I've only waited for this moment my whole freaking life!) "Back at you, sir. A young naked woman is on your lap and you haven't introduced yourself."

"Well, wouldn't the fault be yours in partial? How did you end up on my lap?"

I shrug. "I'm only apart of your imagination, you tell me."

He exhumes with confidence, and he has a slight hint of arrogance in his posture. I am in his imagination, so he does not need to fear me fleeing from him.

"A poor, desolate woman, you are, you had no choice but to wind up at my feet to beg for money or food or clothes."

"That's plausible."

"If you're really a figment of my imagination," he muses sinfully, "then you won't mind if I remove the mask, even though your subconscious may reject to it." His hands raise to his head in a threat. "But, as part of my darkest imaginings, my disgrace would not matter to you, and you would have made sweet love to me."

My heart pounds in my throat, and suddenly, I'm shy. "Y-you can take it off. I won't mind."

Erik's death glare snaps my jaw shut. "Of course you would. If you are my subconscious like you claim to be, you clandestinely wish that you, or anyone else, wouldn't mind, but people mind. People mind a lot. And who would want to satisfy their wicked deeds with the undead?"

"Well, take a chance on me." ABBA alert.

A long moment passes. "As long as if it won't be like looking into a mirror." Then his hands remove the mask, and I see him for the very first time.

It takes everything in me to not scream. I honestly thought I'd be able to take it. I thought it would be easy. It was not. It was the most difficult assignment I had to go through. I clamp my mouth shut, my lips squeeze tightly to insure that no sounds escape. The blood rushes from my brain, and I feel my face turn green. My throat constricts.

His face is a skull, with skin as thin as paper; veins are visible beneath it, and the color is a pasty hue. His eyes are sunken in, in fact I only see two holes with a yellow light peeking through like a flashlight down a long tunnel. There is no nose, only an open socket. He has no lips; they are so thin you can nearly see the teeth behind them. Or what teeth he has.

"So my imagination does mind!" remarks Erik.

Get yourself together! He is still human. He may have Death's head, but he has emotions.

"N-no, of course not."

"Don't lie to me!" he snaps viciously.

I shrink back, and I want to smack my forehead. This is not going how I thought it would. This is not the impression I would have liked to have made.

I decide to go down a route less taken: I go for the truth, but I do so gently. I sit up a bit, crossing my arms and legs so that nothing improper is exposed. It only does so much. Erik, being a gentleman (this time), does not skid his eyes down my form, instead he keeps them level.

"Okay. Your face is...shocking."

I sense his tense muscles, and without thought I snatch his hand in mine, giving his wrist gentle ministrations with my fingers. Erik drops his defenses after a minute, eyes fluttering close as a small murmur runs past his lips.

"Please listen to me-your subconscious." A smile appears on mine as I whisper my feelings. His eyes open languidly. "Your face is shocking...at first. People don't always act morally to those who look different. Some are frightened, and they'll scream. Others will be aggressive and mistreat you because they view you as a threat. Then there are lowlifes who just see you as someone they can damage emotionally because they know the world will abandon those who are different. But there are some people," I raise his face to mine, brushing my fingers over the line of his jaw. He swallows hard. I was expecting him to shoot his hand back and yell at me, so it's a wonderful, gratifying moment when he doesn't. "There are people, who will be shocked for a moment or two, but then they will return to their common sense, and remember that you are human, and treat you with civility. They will want to know you. They exist, even if they are rare."

Erik is silent. Our breathing, long and steady, are in sync. I rub his sullen cheeks with my thumbs. His cheeks are clammy, but very soft. His eyes flicker down, and I rediscover too late that my arms are no longer covering myself. His features remain impassive, and suddenly I am concerned whether or not he likes my physique. He could at least make some murmur of approvement. Pride wounded, I blush, pulling my arms back to cover myself, when his hands snatch my wrists.

"My imagination...did a very good job coming up with a female form. After all, I've only had books-pretty much-to base it off of. I'm impressed."

With my body or your psyche?

"Oh, yes, I would have loved to have made love to you, my beauty."

Sunshine erupts from within. Erik wants to make love to me! Why does that make me so happy? I'm pathetic.

The sultry vixen erupts to life. "Maybe someday, another time." Full of fueled confidence, I rise. Erik's eyes follow me like a hawk; I am in his spotlight. "But now you need your sleep."

"I am not one to sleep."

Boy, do I know. "Let me try to help you then."

Erik snorts. "My subconscious has never been able to help me before, why would now make a difference?"

I don't answer. Instead, I lean his torso forward, moving my legs so they cuddle his shoulders. I maneuver him between my legs before I pull him back against my chest, his head planting itself on my shoulder. I rub his chest over his shirt, humming quietly to him. His breathing soon deepens.

"Pretty voice…"

I jolt a moment later. Erik is no longer on my chest. Our roles are reversed, now he is on my lap. That is when a glint of light hits my eye. I gasp in recognition. The collar...it became an anklet. So I'm still owned...

"Have a nice nap?"

I gasp, adrenaline spiking. Her! The gypsy.

"What time is it?" I ask, my breath shuddering.

"Two." The gypsy replies. "We need to have a little chat."

I look down. I am still human. "I agree."

"I am sure you have a lot of questions."

"I do." I lightly grunt as I gently remove Erik's head off my lap.

"He won't wake up," replies the gypsy petulantly.

I continue to take my time moving him, carefully adjusting his head on the floor. Something warm wraps around my shoulders and back. I turn, and the gypsy woman laid a blanket around me. She's like a ninja, I didn't hear a thing. She trots to the balcony, I follow.

"So-"

"Hush. I know what you are going to say."

I raise an eyebrow. Oh boy.

"You want to know why you are human."

I bite my lip in an effort to swallow down a nasty retort. "Yes."

"I figured, after some reflection, that it wasn't fair for you to point out Erik's true love as a cat. Communication would prove to be difficult-" No crap. "-as a feline."

It already is difficult. I've swallowed my tongue and have nothing to say.

"So, we are going to add something a little fantastical," she continues. "Every night you will turn human, but only between midnight and seven in the morning."

I snap myself back in to order, slight with rage. "That barely leaves me any interaction with him! Or with people!" How will I find his soulmate if I can't interact with anyone?

She mews at me, sneering. "I think you will come to find that it will all work out. If not, I will find a way to make you comply."

My own sneer appears, disgust rippling throughout my body. "I am not some pawn for you to play with."

"My dear, I think you'll find that if I can bend time, everything and anything is at my will!" Her snarl freezes me. Someone so cruel should not possess such power.

I pout, but stay quiet, not wishing to instigate a fight-a fight I'd obviously loose.

"If we need more adjusting we can." She smiles fiendishly. "We have all the time in the world to figure this out."

Blood pounds in my ears. What?!

But she is gone before I can ask her to clarify.


	12. Chapter 11: The Khanum

When I woke up this morning, it took my muddled brain a moment to realize I'm a cat again. My enjoyment as a human was very brief; but honestly, I shouldn't let my metamorphosis ruin my mood. Erik saw me-me!-last night! Oh my gosh! That was earnestly (and undeniably) the greatest moment of my life. I could tell he liked me, even though he thought I was an illusion. Whether he enjoyed my company based on an emotional aspect or a physical one, is hard for me to judge.

So...I guess I'm granted human rights for a couple of hours each night now. I meowl in annoyance. Sadistic witch!

I stretch, unfurling myself from Erik's lap, who is still deeply asleep. He looks peaceful, at least.

My ear flickers towards the door at the sound of footsteps. I instinctively inhale, and a strong scent of cloves ram my nose. Nadir…!? The door opens, and there he is.

The pride in me swells. I'm getting good. Being able to identify people by smell is certainly handy.

"Oh, Erik," he sighs, his palm hanging limply at his side. "We really need to teach you moderation."

Or we can just withdraw those wretched drugs from him altogether.

Kneeling down, Khan gently fiddles with Erik's bare face, showing no hint of fear. I feel a tinge of admiration for Nadir just then. He is truly Erik's friend. And conscious, I remind myself.

Nadir pivots to face me. "Were you watching him through the night, my dear?"

I meow brightly, rising onto all fours, my tail swishing keenly.

Nadir sighs. "Erik, you have your very own guardian and don't even know it." Nadir swiftly lifts Erik into his arms. "Allah, Erik." He must barely weigh a thing. Erik is so skinny he looks...well, he looks like a skeleton. Nadir carries Erik to the bed and lays him down, adjusting his head and arms so they are in a more comfortable position. He places the mask on a burgundy bed stand.

"You won't say anything," Nadir reaches down and pats my head. "Erik loathes to be coddled."

That is true.

"Well, I am now going to work. Keep your remarkably grey eyes on him, will you?" Nadir shuts the ginormous door with a clunk.

At least he talks to me like I'm human.

I place my furry behind on the cold floor, dutifully watching over Erik as he breathes a deep, relaxed sigh. The peace is interrupted when both doors suddenly open, the handles heavily slamming against the walls. My tail explodes, hair spiked. I give a quick hiss and scurry underneath the piano bench as Nadir rushes back into the bedroom.

What the heck?! Then I smell it: Royalty. The Khanum must be on her way.

I am not ready to meet this woman.

"Erik! You need to wake up!" Nadir is shaking Erik, basically bouncing him on top of the bed like a ball. He slaps his face. Erik moans, but does not stir. I bound from the shadows and leap onto Erik's chest. Nadir stops to stare at me. If grand and grating motions won't wake him, maybe gentleness will. I lightly paw his sternum while I nuzzle his naked cheek, purring.

His finger twitches.

My pride beams. Ah, the keen mind of cats.

I whisper a delicate meow in his ear, giving it a dry lick.

His eyes yank open, a small groan passing through his lips. I leap down, exploiting my pride with a tall walk.

"Oh, good," breathes Nadir. "Allah, Erik! I thought you wouldn't wake up!"

Erik swings his legs over the bed, snatching his mask with great reflexes and a scowl. He stands. "What do I owe the pleasure for your attendance this morning, Daroga?"

"The Khanum is on her way."

"Ah."

They are complete opposites. Truly, they are. Erik appears to be undisturbed by this news while Nadir is trembling with nervous excitement.

"Erik! We need to be on alert."

"I am always on the alert."

The expression on Nadir's face proves he believes otherwise. I believe Erik is always on the alert, and that he has a facade of calm. Internally, he's a monsoon of raging emotions.

The doors swing open again, once more banging against the walls. I duck underneath the bed, my little heart pitter-pattering against my chest. A hiss sneaks out at the woman who comes into view. I want to make a run for it, my legs are taut and ready, but the fierce protector in me is begging to stay for Erik's sake.

The Khanum is gorgeous. Which I find to be unfair-

OH. MY. GOD!

I recoil, my furry back bumping the wall with a small thump. I semi-unconsciously dig my nose into the fur of my chest, my paws clawing at my face, desperately trying to block the rotten stench that's terrorizing my senses. This woman has the most awful smell! I've never smelled someone so vile and degrading. Her appearance is a trap. What lies underneath is something so ugly, so atrocious and vile, the scent is indistinguishable. My body chills and every limb and muscle is telling me to sprint away for my life. My vision blurs and my nose begins to run. I can only rely on my ears to be my guide.

"Ah, there is my Angel of Death," croons the Khanum.

Even her voice is sweet venom.

I release a muffled cry. Don't vomit. My claws appear. The pull to claw the flesh off her ankles is strong, but I resist. I can't get caught.

The sneer on Erik's face is evident through his tone. "Yes. Quite ironic, isn't it? I'm an angel, but one of death. I am quite the giver of darkness. Aren't angels supposed to give people light?"

"Not fallen angels, Erik," replies the Khanum in her sickly sweet voice.

Erik's sneer deepens. "Based on my physical appearance, I must've fallen deep."

The Khanum releases a throaty chuckle. "Your humor, Erik, is much like my own. That's one of the many things I so...appreciate about you. You know that, right?"

Erik releases a grunt of affirmation.

A new stench hints my nose, and I have to keep from gagging. This conversation is turning her on! She is wicked to the core!

"Now, mon ange de mort, I have a job for you."

"Yes, I know. You need me to kill Khalid."

Her dress ruffles. "As blunt as usual, Erik. Couldn't you be a bit more light-hearted about this? Maybe you can actually have some fun this time. Perhaps you can make your sword as blunt as your words?"

"I will chose his end," Erik retorts stiffly. "I know why you want him killed. A suspect of treason. Fine, but what of his family?"

I sense a shrug from the Khanum. "Kill them as well. We all know the wife is useless. She couldn't possibly serve as a whore with those seven kids she birthed. No man would want her for they would slide into her like a fish glides through water; there'd be no friction. Her kids are a liability as well, so have them die on the streets."

The thought is sexually exotic to her. I can sense it. I gag again. She is so nonchalant with the way she speaks, so careless. She...is she even human?

The room is filled with a grim energy.

Erik breaks the silence. "Why not pass the children onto a family who has none?"

"Erik," tuts the Khanum, "is my Angel of Death becoming soft?"

Erik growls. "I have no sympathy for those homosapiens."

"There's the assassin I adore!" Her eyes gleam with triumph at fueling his long-stemmed hatred for humanity. "You and I have a similar disdain for inferior beings, Erik. Don't disobey me, now, lest you have a fetish for pain."

I tremble. The threat was loud and clear.

"Khan!" she snaps at Nadir, "I need you to join me downstairs. Now!"

"Yes, your highness." Khan quickly departs, leaving Erik alone to deal with the Khanum one last time.

She slowly backs away. "Remember, you're an exper in the art of torture, Erik-just like myself! I want you to complete your work by two this evening. Get the job done!"

Erik huffs, his legs frozen. I sense a struggle within him. Deep down, he doesn't want to hurt the kids or the family. Those sympathetic feelings that create so much conflict in him is harder for me to detect, for the side that hungers to kill out of fury against humanity is ten times stronger. It's the children, however, that is causing the true turmoil. Even he can understand that.

"I am nothing like you," he hisses vehemently beneath his breath, a moment of rage directing itself at the Khanum. "I am nothing like you. I am nothing...I am only a monster." And we return to the never-ending cycle of self-loathing.

Poor Erik. But this is the man I love. I sigh, for my feelings are real.

I crawl out from underneath the bed, jumping onto the soft mattress. I stare up at him and meow.

He turns in surprise. "You're still here?"

I meow again, jumping down to rub against his leg. His eyes linger a moment, before he bends down to pick me up. I purr immediately. My whole body tingles with longing. I've been wanting him to hold me for so long!

"I'm assuming you're hungry." So cold and calculating. He's mentally preparing himself for the killings, detaching himself even further from humanity to make the job easier, but he's still caring for me.

Run, Erik! Run from this evil place! What's left of your sanity depends on it.

I'll be there for you, Erik. I won't leave your side. As his guardian, I pledge to help him see the good in him, and to forgive the damage humanity's ignorance has caused him. I will be there to help him find true love, no matter what.

Erik sets down a small dish of milk. My stomach lurches towards it, famished. I lick greedily at the white lake, enjoying the creamy texture and flavor.

I'll help you as soon as I'm done eating. Promise!

* * *

My eyes open after trying five difficult times. They felt like they were being held down by lead. I groan, moving my stiff body up off the sandy ground.

Wha…? Sand?

A gasp filters through my body. My head turns to get a better gaze at my surroundings. Then I see them. They are spread several feet apart from each other.

I clumsily crawl to the one closest to me, shaking her body. "Tiffany," I rasp, my throat is as dry as sandpaper. "Tiffany, wake up!"

She mumbles, her eyes slowly fluttering open. "Rick?" she whispers. "What happened? Where are we?"

I shake my head, breathing heavily. "I'm not sure." I can finally comprehend the landscape. We're in the middle of a blistering hot, godforsaken desert!

Weren't we just at the circus?

"Is there anyone else?"

"Yes. Sam and Lee are just a couple feet away from us."

"Crystal?"

I gulp dirt, my heart pounding in my chest. "She's nowhere in sight."


	13. Chapter 12: Erik's Attention

"What do you mean 'she's nowhere in sight'?!" Tiffany screeches, which influences a dry hacking thanks to the sandy air.

"Easy," I mumble, grasping her shoulder gently. "We're all thirsty, and we appear to be-"

"In the middle of fucking nowhere," finishes Sam sardonically.

"D-does anyone remember what happened?" Lee whimpers. "My memories are b-blurry."

While all of us are concerned and confused, Lee seems to be the one who is suffering the most. It's boiling hot, but she is trembling violently, a cold sweat dripping down her forehead. Her face is blotchy, and I can only imagine the severe sunburn coming her way. It took us an hour to find shade, which is under a tall, wimpy palm tree. Our next-necessary-objective is to find water, which is what we'll need in order to succeed our first priority: finding Crystal.

"I remember we were at the circus," I volunteer, forcing myself to remain calm. I am the man of the group, and I need to stay logical. "We were all there, including Crystal."

"Where's my comb?" rasps Tiffany, rummaging through her bag. "No." More rustling. "No! No! No! I can't find my comb!" Her hair is as hectic as her personality right now. Mascara streaks down her cheeks.

She has to be consoled before she panics. "Tiffany-"

"I need my comb!"

"Who gives a shit about your stupid comb!" hisses Sam vehemently. "Look where we are!"

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Hey hey hey!" My fear of budding chaos forces my tone to turn aggressive. "We need to settle down. We can't waste energy or hydration. Tiffany, I know it's frustrating, but there is absolutely no water in sight and crying will only make you more dehydrated."

Tiffany's soft cries turn to whimpers as she tries to control her emotions. I understand. Everyone needs their security blanket when things get rough. It's a way to build up a self-confidence that vanishes when we are no longer in control. I used to turn to Crystal...

"As soon as we find a town, we will get you a comb," I promise, clearing my scratchy throat. I feel like I've swallowed nothing but sand. "I say we rest during the day, and continue walking at night."

"That sounds good to me," whispers a drowsy Lee, who is leaning against Sam.

"She's not giving us a choice here," mutters Sam. "Get off, Lee! Your body heat is making me slick _er_ with sweat. God, I'd kill for a vodka."

"I also remember...Crystal going into a tent with a weird woman." Tiffany's eyes are distant, a vapid pool of reflection. "Maybe we'll dream our lost memories."

"Maybe." I lean against the base of the tree. "Let's try to sleep."

I think we can all agree that sleep did not come to us naturally.

* * *

Ah! I lick my lips, trying to gather whatever drops I may have missed. Now that my tummy is full of creamy deliciousness, I know what I need to do. It's not something I look forward to, though. Gory scenes aren't something I admired as a human, but as a cat, my nose is more forgiving towards the smell of blood; and, as a faithful guardian, I'm willing to amp up my courage for Erik's sake.

So...I plan to be there while he completes the filthy Khanum's assassination.

As much as I don't want to witness the mutilation of a family, I want to be there for Erik. Self-dread was already flowing through him when the Khanum left, I can't imagine how he'd be after the job was finished. I won't attach myself to his hip, but I will be his shadow, watching over him from afar. When I see self-dread turn to utter loathing, that's when I will leap into his arms.

Now licking my paw, I can't help but wonder about the Khanum and her way of thinking. See, I've always imagined assassinations to be executed at night, but under the Khanum's power, I guess it doesn't matter when. She does not concern herself over Darogas catching the exhibition becuase they are under her rule; she knows no one is going to prevent this murder. She's omnipotent in this world. What's truly sickening is that people's fear will increase tenfold when they witness this assassination, and _that_ will influence her sexual deviancy. She exerts her authority through gruesome imagery, so Erik can only be so discreet without getting him, or some innocent bystander, punished.

My tail flicks in disgust. _All of this for her personal enjoyment. Ick!_

A dissonant chord is played on the piano. My head spears upright. Erik is at his piano, dabbing a quill in some ink. The music changes to something more slow and deliberate; it's very controlled, not fluid or relaxed. If Erik was to release his true emotions, the music would be monstrous. Right now, it sounds vexed. He wants justification, but there is no justifying this.

He quits dabbling and stares ahead. Just...stares. It's slightly unnerving.

 _I hope he's thinking about the naked lady he met last night and not diving toward self-hatred._

His fingers bind into shaking fists, which begin to smack heavily against his thighs. A low growl, which turns into a demonic howl builds deep from his throat. Good God! It sounds like his soul is being shredded to bits. I pounce onto the piano bench, terrified of this side of him- the insane side. I've always read about it, but I've never seen it in real life. I'm unsure what to do, but the caregiver in me allows my instincts to take over. I carefully place my two front paws on his skeletal frame. My face rubs against his chin, gently rocking the mask askew. He swiftly wraps his spindly fingers around my torso, squeezing my ribs. I meow, fear flitting through me. We stare at each other, our eyes blinking once, then twice. His grip loosens.

Erik sighs. "Erik doesn't…I don't want..." he sighs again, immediately breaking off his sentence. His eyes close. When he opens them again, I see rage and insanity "Erik doesn't want to kill another family! He doesn't want to spill the boy's blood or the father's...especially not-" he chokes a bit, gasping dramatically before calming himself, "-especially not the _mother_ , however good she may or may not be."

I lick under his chin, the only bit of bare skin I can reach. _I know._ _I know it's bad. I know you don't want to. I know you have a soft side towards children...and mothers._

His eyes flicker, watery from emotional stress. He sets me down on his boney thighs, petting my head as he picks up his quill, scratching more notes onto the parchment paper. I begin to pur, empathetically sensing his current contentment. I feel the jewel loosen from my neck, and I did not realize just how heavy it was until it was fully lifted away.

"This _looks_ like the Khanum's," I shiver at the venom in his voice, "but it isn't. She would've informed the whole kingdom of stolen jewels, if it was." Erik lifts me into the crook of his arm, rising from the bench. He walks as he observes the collar. "You are quite the funny feline to come across these on your own." Erik opens a drawer next to his bed, placing the jewels carefully in a secret wooden box. I blink, and it's gone. I missed how it happened. Be careful with Erik, he's as quick as a snake. "Perhaps it might come in use for me at some point in the future."

 _I'm being carried in his arms. This is nice._ A feeling of pride so strong swells in my chest. I know I'm a pretty cat. And in Erik's arms, I am the queen. My eyes start to drowse when he begins petting the top of my head again, then dipping behind my ear. Oh! That's the spot! I yawn. Maybe I should take a cat nap…

* * *

My ear flickers as I succumb to an alert state. My comfort is disturbed when I hear the door slam. I jump from the little ball I was and observe Erik furiously trample the floor, maniacally mumbling to himself in a foreign language. I stagger back, nearly falling from the piano bench at the sudden smell that hits my nose. I want to hiss. I smell the hateful metallic stench of blood. _Okay...maybe my nose is not so forgiving of blood when it's human blood._

 _Oh no!_ Erik must of completed his assassination. It's already late in the evening. I'm a terrible guardian! I fell asleep when I should have been there to experience what his damaged soul has seen too many times! Cats sleep during the day...I must've drowsed when Erik continued to pet me with his delicious touches…

 _I'm a stupid, saucy kitty._

I'm on edge as my eyes follow Erik's furious pace along the rug, into the kitchen, into the bedroom, and back onto the rug. He's going to make a fire pit if he doesn't stop soon. I approach, then come to a sharp halt, my moon shaped eyes spy the residue of fresh blood on his hands.

 _This is terrible! I'm an awful guardian!_

I failed to be there for him, but I won't fail now.

Erik suddenly stops pacing, his arms limp at his sides. His breathing is still erratic, and little wisps of air puff from his mouth. Erik switches the language to English, and I can hear ungrateful, self-harming phrases about himself. He is in a world of pain. Then, it's like his soul escapes him and he collapses onto the floor. His bulging knees _clunk_ against the floor, his hands covering his face, his mask smacked off and forgotten at the side of the room. His face startles me a moment, but I don't let it affect me for long. I walk to him like a dog does to a stranger-cautious and curious.

 _Oof!_ The stench emanating from him is odorous. It's vile and depressing. I need to distract him from the sin he committed. I meow, rubbing my entire body against his waist. My tail curls around his elbow. I rub myself against him a couple more times, but my feline attempts go unnoticed, so I plop down by his feet where I rub my back against the carpet.

 _See? Aren't I cute? Look at me!_

He is not looking at me. He is caught up in his net of despair. My pride begins to melt away. The human side of me comes forth, and I climb onto his thighs. I smell his hands, wiping my whiskers against them. I paw his twiggy fingers, wanting to clean them. I want to wash away the gore. Erik unconsciously gives me his hand, and my scratchy tongue swipes at the blood. I do my darndest not to gag. Once I finish that hand, I paw at the other, which he gives in a willingly, but dazed trance. There's a few specks of blood on his neck and earlobe. I set my two front paws onto his shoulder, the bone digging uncomfortably into my paw. My tongue starts licking his neck, which startles him awake before slumping into a relaxed state. I make my way from his neck to his earlobe, where a sumptuous moan leaves his lips. My tail flickers in pleasure at the sound.

 _Someone has sensitive ears…_

A clawed hand wraps around my stomach, lifting me away from Erik's face. He holds me a couple inches away from him. His eyes flicker about my face, and I wish I was human and not a furry feline. Erik blinks, and his gold, luminous eyes sear into my grey ones. My heart thumps steadily.

"You are a needy, flirtatious little cat, aren't you?" Erik cocks his head in wonderment. As if I was the most curious creature on Earth. At this moment I probably am.

"It's like you know... _precisely_ what I am going through, and you're trying to _comfort_ me somehow. But-" Erik shakes his head, "-that's _impossible_!"

With one hand, Erik lifts himself up, my body cradled in the crook of his arm again. In comparison to his twig of an arm, I feel like the size of a lioness. I purr.

"Yes," Erik hums softly. "Purr, my beautiful one. I shall make something for you."

My ears sway forward. _What?_

Erik grabs his discarded mask, placing it on his face before sitting at his piano bench. He pulls forth construction paper.

"I shall make you a cat house so beautiful and elegant, the Shah's own cats will be squirming in envy. It will be stupendous and unique, to match the color of your eyes. I do admit, I've never seen a cat behold the color your eyes possess."

 _Is he really going to build something? For me?!_

He places me on his lap, the pencil scratching feverishly across the paper. My head just barely sits above the keys, but I am too enamored to look away. He is graceful in everything he does. I mean, the curve of the line he just drew gave me goosebumps! At least he's distracted from his earlier turmoil. I'd say I redeemed myself.

Familiar footsteps close in at the door. I'm not too surprised to see Nadir when he emerges from the hall. His entrance does not disturb Erik, but it makes me jump a little. That damn door is too loud sometimes. Erik runs a hand along my back to soothe me.

"Good evening, Erik. Good evening, little lady." Nadir smiles sadly at me. _I hope everything is going okay with Reza. Nadir is looking a bit older than he was yesterday._ "Erik, I have come to inform the Khanum of the status of the assassination."

Erik sighs. "Tell _her highness_ that the deed is done. They're all dead."

Nadir nods, swallowing hard. He is obviously disturbed by Erik's demeanor towards it. He clears his throat. "Working on a new project for the Shah?"

"No. Now, please leave me in peace. I'm mentally occupied and I don't need you to bury your big nose into my business."

Nadir sniffs. "A little conversation is good for you, Erik. _Practice_ is good for you." Nadir's feeling testy today. _Want to endanger your life, Daroga? Fine, just don't make your son an orphan."_ Besides, Reza missed you terribly today."

 _Way to soften the blow, Nadir._

Erik pauses, his voice gentle. "I'll be sure to visit Reza tomorrow afternoon. Is he enjoying his toy?"

"Very much so. Thank you, Erik. How is the little lady doing? Reza asks about her, too, you know? I think she made quite an impression on him."

"Not surprised there. The last time he saw her, she fell off the table."

"She seems quite content now," Nadir smiles at my sleepy face. "Indulge me, Erik. What are you building?"

"A cat house," he gruffly admits.

"Oh, so she did win you over. Building a little castle for your princess?"

Erik scoffs. "Hardly that, Nadir."

"But she's become an important companion."

Erik pauses again, turning to look at Nadir. His shoulders are even more tense. "What makes you think that, Daroga? Don't talk nonsense! The Khanum may throw you out on the streets. She hates nonsense you know, but adores crazy. "

Ignoring the babble, Nadir continues his point. "You're constructing for her. And she's on your lap. It would be a shame to lose her since you like her and she likes you."

"What inane squabble you project, Daroga. People-sometimes animals-don't always like Erik because Erik doesn't like them. Last time Erik had a pet...it-it did not end well."

I see the question appear in Nadir's eyes, but he pushes it down, reaching out to me before abruptly pausing. "Erik...where is her collar?"

Erik shrugs, flippant of Nadir's serious tone. "It's not the Khanum's, nor the Shah's. If someone lost something of that value, we would have heard of it by now."

"Erik!" scolds Nadir. "That's too dangerous-"

"Like everything in Persia-"

"That collar represents an ownership, Erik! While it might not be the Khanum's or the Shah's, it is someone who has authority. Someone will miss her, or at least her collar. And they won't treat you nicely if they don't get the whole package back."

"Who has ever treated Erik-me!-nicely?" retorts Erik, his earlier agitation returning.

"I have." Nadir sits, resolute. "So has Reza. So has-"

"Don't you dare mention the cat!" he roars. "Animals are the only ones who can look past this monstrosity-sometimes! That occasional gift does not make them human!" He closes his eyes and sighs. He takes a deep breath. "If it shall come to that, then she'll go back to her rightful owner, along with the collar. I won't sell or do anything to it. No harm done."

Nadir cocks his head. "Not true. You let her in. You will miss her."

"You are talking about her like she's human-again!" Erik rolls his eyes, pettily looking at Nadir. "If she was a woman, Nadir, I can guarantee that she would not be on my lap."

"She certainly can act human sometimes. And her eyes are bizarre. I feel like I'm staring into the soul of a person, not a feline."

Erik stays silent for a moment. "Since you have obvious availability in your schedule, can you stop annoying me and perhaps go into town and pick up a few things?"

Nadir, understanding the que, stands up. "Like what?"

"Some wood; plain."

"Plain? Erik, you are as extravagant as can be, why plain?" Nadir's eyes brighten. "Ah...going to add decorations to her shrine?"

"It's not a shrine!" Erik growls, throwing the quill against the piano top.

 _Nadir's on hot lava._

Nadir grins mischievously. "I know, I know. I will depart and return with your requested item."

"I'll pay you back whatever expenses are owed."

At the door, Nadir turns around with one last quip. "By the way, Erik. Since you are now very much acquainted with your cat, you are required to give her a name."

The door clangs shut before Erik can respond. He sighs, and lifts me into his hands again. "What kind of tastes do you have?"

 _Huh?_

"You have had the collar, so I am assuming you are used to an exaggerated household."

 _Not really._

Erik glides from the bench to his bedroom. He selects the bottom right corner in his room. "This should be a good spot to build your new home!" Erik turns me to face him. "You will not be left needing. You will find all that you'll need with me." My stomach flips. So, it seems I've really gathered his attention.

"A name," he mumbles softly to himself. "Hmm…"


End file.
